


Everything A’flutter

by WitchStuff



Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Genre: Angst and Humor, F/M, Falling In Love, Finn POV, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Growing Up, Minor Character Death, Season/Series 01, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 17:24:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5257157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchStuff/pseuds/WitchStuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>She changed everything and he doesn't know how she did that and he didn't know to watch out for it because it came on so gradually, he was in too deep before he realized the tide was strong and he was already miles from shore.</i> </p><p>Glimpses of Finn Nelson between the scenes of Series 1 & 2, in that confusing time of losing the most important woman in his life, but also meeting the girl he fell in love with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything A’flutter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [madfatty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/madfatty/gifts), [howardently](https://archiveofourown.org/users/howardently/gifts).



> This is a big one. I have been writing this fic, on and off, from the moment I fell into fandom. As a matter of fact, this was my first mmfd fic. I was new, I had so many feelings, I was desperate for some Finn perspective on things, but I wanted to know about all the parts in between the scenes. 
> 
> I started this story, but then got distracted with writing "No Alarms & No Surprises", and abandoned it. Thank God, as always, for my sisters @madfatty and @how-ardently. I sent them some bits and pieces (that's all I had, basically), and their reaction was so strong, I just had to go back to it. And they were such huge fans of this story, all throughout the year and a half (!) it took to finish it. Let's face it. If it weren't for Lil and Erin, this (and many other of my fics) would never have seen the light of day. Ladies, there are no words left to thank you. I shall have to resort to expensive jewelry soon...
> 
> I pretty much have all of me invested in this one, but don't let it stop you from giving me honest and constructive feedback.
> 
>  
> 
> _BTW: There are a ton of music references in this story. There's a cookie in it for ya if you get them all!_

He thinks about it a lot, the summer of 1996, always amazed to realize how much it had changed him. It's like he was on a path, easy and familiar, and that summer, in a few short weeks, he got derailed. Life didn't ask too much of him up till then, and he slouched his way through it, making no effort. He learned at age five, when his mum buggered off, that working hard at being good, or being bad for that matter, is just not worth it. Shit happens when it happens, you roll with it. 

 

At home he had his dad and his nan to take care of him, outside he had his mates and they were always good for a laugh. He was crap at school but only the grownups worried about that. When he started getting interested in girls, there were always girls. Easy. And music filled in the gaps, all the other places that might hurt or be missing in his life.

 

"You're a good lad," His nan used to say, "but you've got to fill your head with more things." At the time he thought she meant do better at school and such, but years later - not that many years, even - he remembers her saying so and knew she’d meant he had to broaden his viewpoint, open his eyes to see past his own arse.

 

She needn’t have worried, because that was all about to begin for him. Because right then, summer of ‘96, is when life slapped him off the path, and taught him loss and grief, joy and love.

 

Funny thing was, he didn’t even see it coming.

 

+++

 

She's having a good day, which means she can sit up and talk to him at length about whatever's going on with him. Trouble is, its summer and nothing much is going on. Seems like he and the lads spend most of their days just hanging, and that's a concept Finn’s nan can’t wrap her head around.

 

"But where did you go?"

 

"Dunno, jus' rode around on our scooters."

 

"Where-abouts?"

 

"Just wherever. Ended up at the chippy."

 

"Of course."

 

"Well, there's fuck all to do in this town -"

 

"Language, Finn."

 

"Sorry, Nan. But i’s true, it's so boring round here."

 

Nan sighs, and rolls her eyes towards the heavens in that way he loves. "Of course.” She tells the ceiling, or maybe the angels. “He's a bright, young boy with his entire future ahead, so naturally he's bored out of his mind."

 

He’s sitting on one of those shitty plastic chairs, hugging one leg to his chest while he’s colouring around the sole of his Converse with a black magic marker he found lying around the Admissions desk. Nan’s sitting up, leaning against the pillows, her beautiful hair all brushed and proper against her shoulders. When there are lulls in the conversation, her eyes drift to Eastenders on the telly.

 

“Oh, but get this,” Finn remembers, and her eyes go to him immediately. “Archie went on a date with Rae Earl.”

 

“The new girl?”

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“Well, he's been on dates with girls before.”

 

“Yeah, but he proper asked her. Don't think he's ever asked a girl himself, he's always just going along with them. And he kissed her, and like,” he raises his eyes to look at her, but can't bring himself to repeat Archie's description of touching Rae Earl’s boob to his nan. “They did some stuff. Not much, but still.”

 

A few silent moments go by while they both ponder this. Eventually she shrugs, “Maybe you're wrong about him. You know, he's young, maybe he doesn’t know what he wants.”

 

“Maybe he was trying her on. See if he likes it.”

 

She doesn’t say anything to that but he can tell she doesn't like the thought. Probably thinks it's not fair on Rae.

 

“She’s well into him, so it’s not like, you know...” he’s not sure why, but it feels like he should defend Archie, take a stand for his brother. “She wanted to go with him, and, and snog him and all.”

 

Nan makes a clucking sound. “Just because you can get something, doesn’t mean you deserve it, lad. Remember that. Especially with girls. Alright?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Nan and her pearls of wisdom. She’s always trying to teach him things about the world, like especially now she’s… not well. Finn wants to be the good guy she imagines him to be, but seriously, who can remember all those rules?

 

She’s very smart, his nan, so she’s probably right, like most times. But she doesn’t push the point. Instead she asks, “Why d’you always call her‘Rae Earl’, eh? Aren’t you friends?”

 

Finn shrugs. “Not really. She’s just around now, but we don't get on much.”

 

“What’d you do?”

 

“Hey, why do you assume it's something I did?” he protests, lifting his head momentarily from his colouring project. “She’s a stubborn cow with a massive gob. Most of the time she's just annoying.”

 

“The others seem to like her well enough.”

 

Finn chews on the corner of his bottom lip in an agitated way. How did he even get dragged into this conversation? But his nan is like a dog with a bone with stuff like this. She wants to understand and she isn’t letting go. "Dunno. We got into an argument about music. Apparently she thinks she's the world’s biggest authority on the subject." He huffs and his nan laughs, and that's worth every altercation he's ever had with Rae Earl. 

 

"Oh-oh!" she says, amused. "Clash of the Titans!"

 

Finn's not sure what that means but he nods. "So now she doesn't like me."

 

"Well," Nan reaches for his hand but he moves closer with his entire body so that she can smooth his hair and move her hand across his cheek like she likes doing. Like he loves it when she does. "I guess she is a stubborn cow then, because I can't see how anyone can not like you, my darling. My sweet boy." 

 

+++

 

He parks the scooter in front of Archie’s house. The lad is waiting for him out front, looking almost sick with nerves. Finn suddenly thinks, _if he’s just sitting at home, why didn’t he go to meet Rae?_ Why call Finn over so urgently, begging him to drive to the coffee house and give her the message that Archie couldn’t make it? Something is off, he just can’t put his finger on what it is yet.

 

They nod at each other, and Archie’s face is red and blotchy when he asks, “Did you find her?”

 

Finn gives Archie a look from behind his helmet. “Yeah, you're sorted.”

 

“And was it... I mean, was she okay?”

 

“Guess so, yeah.”

 

“What did she do?”

 

“Went home, probably. It were fine.” he assures him, but he can’t help note how extremely relieved his mate looks.

 

“Thanks, Finn.” Archie says gruffly. “I owe you one. She... she’s a good friend, I wouldn’t want her to be upset.”

 

Rae’s face when he gave her the message flashes through Finn’s mind. He thinks that Archie is reading this whole thing wrong. He may think that they’re just mates, but she obviously doesn’t see it like that.

 

For a brief moment, he considers not getting involved. But then he thinks about later, when he’ll share this development with his nan, and he knows what she’ll say. So he takes off his helmet and fakes a casual tone, “But I tell you this for nothing, mate, you have a problem.” 

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“That girl thought it were a bloody date. Should have seen her, sitting there, all… pink. Got dressed all fancy and everything. You better set her straight.”

 

Archie’s eyes dart around, looking at trees and cars and the gravel at their feet. “What do you mean?” he repeats dumbly.

 

“Are you deaf? She thought it was a bloody date, could see it on her face.”

 

Archie takes a shaky breath. “It was a date.” he admits.

 

Finn’s eyebrows practically meet. “You what?”

 

“We were supposed to go on a date, our second date, but I just... I couldn't.”

 

A wave of something very close to rage washes over Finn. He just can’t believe he’s hearing this. “Are you having me on? Arch, I thought I was doing you a favour just passing a message, like! Now you tell me you sent me to chuck a girl for ya?” 

 

“I'm sorry!”

 

“Fuck sorry, that is not on!”

 

Archie has nothing to say, and he doesn’t meet Finn’s eyes. Finn leans back on the seat of the scooter, fuming. So it wasn’t just a casual thing, two friends meeting for coffee when one of them can’t make it. Archie had sent him there, fully aware of what he’d find. He shakes his head. “You fucking twat, Arch.” He almost adds, _you’re supposed to be the good one_ , but then he doesn’t.

 

“I know, okay?” Archie’s entire body is fidgeting with nervous energy (“Guilt,” said his nan when he told her about it later). “She's a nice girl, I like her, but after we kissed and all, I just couldn't look her in the eyes and -”

 

“D'you know what? I feel like punching ya. Wouldn't've pegged ya for that sort of bloke.”

 

“Jesus, I know, okay?”

 

Something of the anguish Archie is feeling gets to Finn. “If you like her, and you’ve kissed her, then what's your problem?”

 

Arch pushes his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose and blurts out. “She's not my type.”

 

“What is your type?”

 

Archie hums and moves uncomfortably. "Dunno. Blond hair?"

 

 _A knob?_ Finn thinks but doesn't say.

 

+++

 

He's crap at guitar, and that's an endless frustration. He and Archie started learning together, but then Arch became way too advanced for him. Years later, Archie can just pick up a guitar and play any song by ear, and Finn's still fumbling with the strings. Could be it's time to pack it in. Admit defeat. Some people are musicians, some aren't.

 

His dad is flipping channels in that way he does, where you can't actually catch any of the info. Eventually he settles on something David Attenborough-ish, with oceans and whales. 

 

But he fucking loves music. He fucking loves it. Fate couldn't be so cruel to give a person so much love for something but not the tools to be able to actively do anything about it, right? Thank God he's not rubbish at football like he is at playing music. He can’t sing, neither. Or fucking write lyrics, he's crap at that. Maybe he could play something else, like drums or something. Yeah, drums is different than a guitar, he could have that talent hidden in him. Like, way, way hidden. 

 

He sighs. He flips the guitar to the left side. From time to time he tries to play like that, because you never know. Paul McCartney couldn't play well until he realized he was left-handed and flipped sides. Finn strums a few chords. Macca he ain't. 

 

It's just so unfair. He could practice his entire life and never be good enough, no matter how much he wants it. It was out of his reach. Everything fucking was.

 

Anyway, Archie couldn't pull off being a drummer, Finn thinks, feeling a little guilty for thinking mean thoughts about his best mate. But that's just how it is, innit? Some people just couldn’t pull that off. Chop could be a drummer, though he'd never sit still long enough to learn. Rae could. Chloe could... play the triangle. He sniggers to himself.

 

"Hey dad," he asks, his fingers moving from one position to another, trying chords. "Can I have a drum kit?"

 

"You what?"

 

"For me birthday, like?”

 

His dad glances over at him, amused and perplexed. "Oh, aye, you can put it right next to the three headed dragon I'm getting you for Christmas". 

 

Finn frowns. "A laugh a minute, you are".

 

"I like to think so". 

 

"Well, could I take drumming lessons or something?"

 

"Why for? You don't have a drum kit".

 

Finn puts the guitar down on the floor. He stretches his legs and crosses them at the ankles. On the telly, a guy is swimming with sharks. Next he talks about his love of the ocean and they show him doing some fancy surfing manouvres Finn wonders what it's like to live next to an ocean, instead of endless fields and crumbly old mansions. 

 

"Do you really want a drum kit, Finn?" Dad suddenly asks, concern colouring the edges of the question. 

 

"Nah, I was just thinking out loud."

 

"Cause, it's expensive and all, but I guess we can work something out if you really -”

 

"Nah, you're alright".

 

After a bit, his dad visibly relaxes. Finn knows things aren't all that great financially; most of his dad's paycheck goes towards the care for his nan.

He looks up at him and grins, "A surfboard, then?”

 

 +++

 

He goes to see her before football and is startled by how frail she suddenly looks. But her hand still reaches out to him, her fingers are still warm and just right inside his own palm. There’s something about the way Nan touches him, it’s an instant balm to whatever ails him, and it never fails. Every single touch holds within it all the other ones, like an endless chain of affection and love; how she held him when he was a boy, howling with the pain of rejection and longing for something he was already beginning to forget; her hand on his forehead to judge whether or not he had a fever; on his cheek when she woke him up with a cup of tea. Dancing with her in the living room, twisting and shouting and then holding hands and spinning round and round, until they were both dizzy and out of breath with laughter. Every touch is packed with all of those moments, the tender moments of his life; a perfect, eternal sanctuary.

 

“Darling, I want to talk to you.” her voice is soft and it’s shocking to see how much effort it takes for her to speak.

 

“Maybe you should rest, Nan, we can talk later.”

 

“This is important, my love. I have things I need to tell you.”

 

Panic turns his blood to ice, and he finds himself letting go of her hand, moving away, “No, not today, we’ll talk later, yeah? You need your sleep now, right?”

 

“Finn...”

 

“I only stopped for a moment, got to go to footie.” he’s practically at the door when he catches himself, rushes back to her side for a quick kiss to her cheek, and rushes right out again. “Bye, Nana, see ya laters, yeah?”

 

It’s all in her eyes anyway, when he dares to look. She knows. He can see her debating whether to insist or let him go. But she’s too tired to fight him on this, and she lets him go with a tight smile. “Bye darling. Come see me soon, won’t you?”

 

“Course I will!” he sounds startled. The panic is almost choking him, and he has to leave before it all spills over. He smiles, the warmest, most loving smile he can muster. “Where else would I go?”

 

+++

 

Thank God they now have Knebworth to look forward to, because the summer is stretching on with fuck-all to do except think about things he can’t really handle. He’s restless. Agitated. He's smoking so much these days, and between that and the endless hours they are spending at the pub getting pissed, he's going through his savings way too fast. The Knebworth ticket plus petrol money for the ride do not come cheap (though, Finn is prepared to pay twice that, if it means he gets to stand there while the Gallagher boys do their thing right in front of him), but luckily Chop gets tickets from a bloke his brother knows, for much less than the official price, and nobody asks why's that, they just say _Thank you, mate, you're a star._ When Chop arrives with the tickets they’re so fucking excited they’re ready to name Chop "King of Us". Rae Earl literally jumps into the lad's lap when she gets the news about a ticket for her, and Finn can identify. 

 

So freakin’ Knebworth is looming and it makes everything more exciting. Even Chop's prep-meetings, the third of which Finn is now late for. Two times already they've met to "prep" for the gig, and still nobody has any idea what this prepping is all about, since Chop loses track of his agenda in the excitement and the drinking, and the lads go off onto other subjects and the drinking, and Rae makes funny comments and derails Chop from all his banging on whenever he tries to talk serious, and of course, there‘s all the drinking.

 

So this time Chop decides it's going to be an early meeting ("Broad day light, you twats!", as if that makes a difference), and in the chippy other than the pub (“Let’s see if you have better fucking manners over a bag of chips.”). They're all already assembled as Finn hurries in and sits at the table. 

 

He's not there two seconds before it becomes clear that he's just stepped into a hazard zone; Rae is in a right mood, and they don't exchange two words before she's rolling her eyes at him and calling him a prick under her breath. He's starting to take this personal now, 'cause he said he was sorry about his part in the Archie thing and it looked for a split second like she was gonna be sound with him, but no. She seems to get on with every bloody person on the face of planet Earth except for him, whom she dislikes on principle. 

 

Except today Rae's in a foul mood and everyone's getting it. Shame, ‘cause she looks dead nice today, except for that face like a slapped arse. She picks a fight with him over music, and he can't help but get dragged in after her. For fuck's sake, why would she ever think he'd put fucking Spaceman on the mix-tape? He isn't brain dead! Then she's on Chop, who's not helping when he throws a huge black T-shirt at her. Christ, does he not know a fucking thing about girls, that lad? No bird would want to put on a fucking black tee when she's all dolled up in a sparkly top and tiny skirt. 

 

He startled from his musings by Rae suddenly shouting "Well I guess I can't win, can I?" and she storms off. 

 

"Fuckin’ hell, what just happened?" he turns to Chop, "What's with her?"

 

"Fuck if I know! On the rag or summat."

 

"Thought you said she was alright," one of the lads says. "Looks mental to me."

 

"Yo, she is alright, our Raemundo. Don't you worry about it." Chop sends a dangerous look at the guy, who just shrugs.

 

"Jus' saying, when you said you're bringing a girl we thought she'd be more -"

 

"And I’m telling ya, she’s a top bird and she's coming, and that's all you need to know, yeah?" Chop cuts him off, and Finn suddenly loves him for being this loyal and standing up for Rae, as much as she's being a total bastard to him. But then Chop ruins it by standing up and throwing a fistful of greasy chips back on the plate. "Fuck, let's just go get pissed." And they all get up to leave. 

 

"You can't just leave, you dick, Rae's in the bathroom." Finn can't believe he's the one left looking out for Rae Earl, who surely don't give a shit about him, no matter now nice he tries to be to her. 

 

"Well, Sir bloody Lancelot, you wait for her and we'll see ya there." 

 

So this is how Finn finds himself sitting alone at the table, waiting for a girl who can't stand him, trying to think of songs for the ride, but he can’t concentrate.

 

What did she mean, "I guess I can't win", he wonders. Obviously something's going on with her, something that has nothing to do with Knebworth or them. Is this a guy thing? Was she all dressed up for a date later, or what? Shouldn't that make a girl happier, not bitchier? 

 

He suddenly realizes they know nothing about Rae. With all her never shutting up, she doesn't really tell them anything much about herself. They know she's into music, she’s friends with Chloe by some bizarre twist of fate nobody quite gets, she has a mum she doesn't always get on with, went to France but didn’t see much... and that's about it. Oh, and there’s a mystery accident she never mentions, the one where she got cuts all over her thighs. Finn can’t imagine what type of accident would leave those sorts of marks. Shards of glass? Did she smash into a glass table? It was all so fucking vague.

 

So maybe that's the thing about her. She's a mystery. You never know what she's thinking, if she's about to yell at ya or smile at ya. And she's cool. Like, a seriously cool person. Finn wonders how she does that. She's not quiet or laconic, she occupies space. But she's got her loud opinions and Band shirts and colourful sun glasses and long soft hair, and that package is working. It's cool. 

 

Now, him, he doesn't like other people much, everyone's kinda crap in Stamford. And lucky for him, all his sitting around with headphones on, rolling another ciggie, not participating, acting all aloof and mysterious, that, along with something in his looks, is mistaken for coolness. He works for it, but not too much. It comes easy and always had. But, he realizes suddenly, it’s not the same as really being cool. It never feels genuine. It’s not really the real Finn. Or, if it is, it’s a thought he’s not comfortable with. While Rae Earl almost always seems comfortable, with whatever comes her way. Like, there was that bad moment at the pool but she bypassed it so fast that it became instantly irrelevant. She was now a part of the gang just as much as him or Archie, and she’s only been around half a minute. How is she doing that?

 

And while he's following this surprising train of thought, the door of the place is banging shut behind him, and she's gone without even acknowledging him sitting there. 

 

+++

 

He shouldn't have done that. Fuck, he went too far. He didn't have to make the wanker bleed. Could have given those twats a scare and made them fuck off and never bother Rae, or anyone, ever again, without going all-out like that. Nan was right.

 

He used to take boxing and he can't help thinking what his old instructor might have said if he'd seen Finn's performance today. "That's not what boxing is for", he’d drummed into them over and over. "Outside of the ring, there is always another alternative." And Finn actually really believes that, doesn't want to think that he went violent when it came down to it, but his brain wasn't even in charge, let alone thinking of alternatives.

 

He knows how to throw a punch, but this was different. Bare-knuckled, that shit hurt. It was hours ago and his fist still feels like it's on fire. Doing the mix-tape for the road trip is a bitch.

 

But who could blame him, really? Was he supposed to let those fuckers talk to her like that? The things they’d said were revolting and she’d just stood there, silent. She'd let them spew all that shit at her. That's what Finn can't understand. It's not that he knows her all that well but he's never seen her back out of a fight. Fuck knows she never lets him get away with anything. All the effortless cool he was going on about in his mind not a minute before had evaporated, became non-existent, and Finn was suddenly unbelievably, irrationally angry that he was witnessing the thing that broke a girl like Rae Earl. He went a little insane.

 

Well, fuck, he did what he did, no taking it back now, and he doesn't want to obsess about it all night. Besides, it might even be good, like, with Rae, with making Rae give him a break sometimes. After the fuckers ran away, when the blood was still rushing in his ears, there was a moment between them, a look she gave him, he's not sure what it meant, but it sure was new. That kind of soft almost-smile had never been directed at Finn, not until today. 

 

He rolls a cigarette and goes to the window to smoke it, the night air feels really fucking great on his skin. He stretches his fingers experimentally, and grimaces. 

 

Should he have hung about afterwards, seen if she was all right? He did ask, sort of, and she did say that she was fine. Well, sort of. He doesn’t know why he didn’t stay, but he’d just legged it out of there, went straight to the hospital.

 

He knew it wasn’t visiting hours and that Nan was probably resting, but he needed to see her, talk it over with her. The nurse saw his hands and tutted, but she let him sit quietly next to Nan’s bed while she slept. After ten minutes the nurse came back with some Band-Aids and things, cleaned the wound and dabbed some smelly stuff on it. Finn continued to sit quietly, leg bouncing, mind racing. He couldn't wait for her to wake up, so he could hash it out with her, tell her all the horrible things those boys said, how strange it felt to stand there. He figured that she’d help him make sense of it all. That she’d even be proud of him defending Rae like that. But when she did wake up and was ready to talk, he couldn’t bring himself to repeat the things they’d said, and he couldn’t explain how Rae’s eyes made him feel inside. And no, she wasn’t proud of him at all. Just shook her head at his bruised knuckles, with that face that all throughout his life had meant that he was in trouble.

 

“But I was defending her honour.” Finn protested. “They can’t talk about her like that. Or any girl!”

 

“That’s right, they can’t. But you throwing punches around doesn’t solve anything. You think they’ve learned a lesson about respecting girls? They haven’t. Trust me. They were being violent, and to show them the error of their ways, you were violent as well. So what makes you better than them?”

 

He was at a loss for words, her reaction so far from his expectations. “W-was I supposed to do naught, just let her stand there humiliated?”

 

Nan’s watery blue eyes were still hard as steel on him. “You have a mouth, don’t you? You have a brain. Put those two together and do something smart. Getting into the habit of punching whenever things don’t go the way you like will not get you far in life.”

 

All Finn could do was pout. She’d taken his heroic gesture and reduced it to a gross error in judgment, and - Rae’s grateful eyes aside - he feared that she was, typically, right.

 

At his obvious disappointment, she softened, patted his arm, and told him she knew his heart was in the right place and for that, she was proud of him. It’s embarrassing how good that made him feel. When she’d asked whether Rae was all right after the ordeal, he didn’t tell her that he didn’t stick around, he just nodded and changed the subject.

 

“Anyway,” he mumbled, “Was thinking this could be an opportunity to start fresh with her. I’ll apologize for, well, if I've ever been not-so nice to her, and maybe we’ll move on...”

 

“Sounds like a good idea, my pet. Next time you see her make sure you apologize. And smile, Finny. She won’t be able to resist ya if you show her you can smile.”

 

Her saying that made him feel really weird in a way he couldn’t explain, and still evokes the same strange feeling now, as he’s standing at the bedroom window, smoking. _Won’t be able to resist him._ Why would Nan even say that? Hadn’t she heard all his stories about Rae Earl, and how they do not get on? He just wants them to be friendlier to each other, since they’re hanging in the same group, that’s all. He’s not trying to seduce the girl or anything.

 

It’s a real jumble of emotions tonight, he scoffs at himself. It’s confusing. Where he felt proud before about this afternoon, he feels kind of ashamed now, after talking to Nan. And still, he feels sort of lightheaded as well. Like... hopeful or something. He's young, it's summer, his nan seems better, and most important - tomorrow he goes to see Oasis with his mates for what will probably be one of the best days of their young lives. 

 

The cigarette butt goes out the window and Finn goes back to the serious business of The Tape. 

 

After all that happened today, he can't help having Rae on his mind the whole time he's picking the music. He loves doing this. It's like he is the one in control of the mood - he's the one who decides what people will feel now, and the next moment. He always slips in a song or two he’s sure none of the others know. Like a Radiohead bootleg or some classic Bowie. He likes it when they ask, “Whoa, what’s that, mate?” And he can be all cool about it, “What, you've never heard ‘Five Years’? Shit, this is common knowledge to anyone who, like, knows music.”

 

But now Rae's going to be there, and she really knows her stuff. If he can surprise her, it'll be huge. It'll be... epic.

 

He’s already worked it out with Chop so that she’s in his car. Maybe she'll be grateful about today, and in a good mood for Oasis, so they'll talk about bands all the way there, and about the concert all the way back. When they feel more comfortable around each other, he can squeeze in the apology thing. Oh, and wait till she hears that first track. It’s a stroke of genius, he thinks. As his hands press buttons, he can't stop grinning. Her face when he presses play! She'll see she's not the only one with a wicked sense of humour.

 

+++

 

But, it's all a load of bollocks, right? You can make all the plans in the world and it’ll still turn out shit.

 

Finn is jumping along with the crowd, one giant wave made out of people caught in the wall of sound, and he's screaming along with the masses, and there's lights and sweat and roaring music that's just bloody perfection - but it's all just shit, just fucking, shitting - 

 

"Fuuuuuuckkkk!" is what he's screaming. "Fuck all this!” Fucking Chloe and her fucking sad eyes and fuck Rae Earl, who just has to go when fucking Chloe beckons, and she didn't get to hear the most perfect mix-tape ever assembled, and he didn't get to apologize or to impress her with all those surprise tracks, and to see goose bumps rise on the smooth skin of her arm when the first few chords of Portishead’s ’Roads’ filled the car.

 

He stops jumping, ‘cause really, who is he kidding. "Fuck," he says and his voice is completely lost in the din of "Live Forever".

 

+++

 

It's after, and he's all better. Not like he was really upset or nothing. It just didn’t go as planned, and Finn hates surprises. That’s why.

 

"Gonna live for-evaaaa!" Chop howls, and the waitress at the all night KFC gives them a look. But it's the middle of the night and there's no other customers to disturb, except other people coming back from Knebworth who’ve stopped here to eat, and they're all as loud as Chop and his group of lads.

 

And Finn is all sane again. ‘Course he is. It was just the adrenalin of the music making him temporarily crazy, just the rush. Oh, and the booze.

 

"Man, I was wasted tonight!" he says to Chop, just in case. 

 

"Naw you weren't, mate, you were fucking sober and sulking during the whole thing. Can't even have fun at Oasis, for fuck's sake."

 

"I had fun!"

 

"’Course you did, ‘cause they were fucking EPIIIIC!" Chop yells and the others take their cue from him and join in a roar. 

 

"Yeah, they bloody was."

 

"Too bad Raemundo couldn’t come with, though".

 

Yeah, it bloody was.

 

"How come you didn't invite that fit bird?" One of Chop's friends pipes in, that shaggy haired one who tagged along at the last minute to share the petrol money. Finn can't remember the name.

 

"Who's that?" asks Chop, distracted by the contents of his bucket.

 

"That girl you're always hanging with, the one with the hair, and the tits..." he laughs and the other guys who are not Finn or Chop or Archie, join in. 

 

"Hey!" Archie snaps, before Finn can even think through the blood rushing to his head, or even figure out which girl with hair and tits is up for discussion. 

 

The twat, who’s drunk and totally buzzed and apparently lacks any sense of self-preservation, continues poking at the three of them, enjoying the attention- of the other morons. "Ya know, that girly, she was hanging about when we left for the gig.”

 

“Chloe,” Little Al volunteers.

 

“Yeah, ‘er. Why didn't’ya bring ‘er, instead of that fat cunt."

 

“Shut your gob, Gazza.” Chop warns. “Rae’s our mate and she’s a top bird.”

 

“Yeah, but you must admit, she’s not exactly easy on the eyes, is she?” Lizard laughs drunkenly. “Not like Chloe. Man, did you see her arse in those jeans today?”

 

This only goads Gazza on. He drunkenly climbs up the back of the orange chair, laughing and gesturing with his plastic cup of orange drink. “Thank Christ she decided not to come with. Can you imagine looking at that fat arse the whole concert?”

 

Chop is on his feet and Finn is surprised to find that he is as well. He’s never given a thought to the phrase “seeing red”, but he thinks he might be doing that right now.

 

“Get the fuck down from there and shut up, I’m not telling you again.” Chop’s face is contorted in anger and his voice is strained. Finn doesn’t know what’s happened to his.

 

Gazza just laughs. This fucking guy. He stands on the chair, the whole place can hear him now. “What, you fancy that cow, Chopper, you sicko? Like a bit of chub, do ya? Can you imagine getting off with a girl like that? Jeeeeasus, like fucking a bloody beached whale or summat -”

 

Finn wonders, did blokes always talk about girls like that, putting them down for being _un_ fuckable?

 

Yeah, they talk about tits and snatches and who would you do and how many times you’d make her come and all that shite, but it wasn’t the same as this, was it? Now they’re talking about actual girls, and you can’t do that. He’s never done that. But, the uneasy thought nags at him, had he ever stood by, smoking and thinking about Suede’s latest album, while this kind of thing was going on all around, and him just pretending it was nothing to do with him?

 

Did he just not give a flying fuck? And if so, why does he give a fuck now? The feeling that he’s done just that is what makes him a little sick, and Rae Earl’s face outside the chippy is what he thinks about, while his hands are grabbing the fucker and pulling him down to the floor. Even as his fists close on the collar of the wanker’s shirt and he is slamming him against the tiles, Finn’s mind seems far, far away.

 

 

+++

 

It’s all Chop will talk about, and Finn can’t stand it.

 

He doesn’t tell his nan how, two minutes after she’d told him he shouldn’t use his fists to get a point across, he’d violently attacked another big-mouthed arsehole. He’ll never tell her about the second time he’d lost it because someone was saying awful shit about someone else.

 

He had literally wanted to kill that boy, right there on the floor of KFC. He wanted to bash his head against the dirty tiles. But he didn't. He did stop before any serious damage was done. It did end with him yelling things he can’t remember, warnings and curses, and Archie pulling him back, Gazza stumbling up, trying to keep cool and save face, and them getting kicked out of the KFC. Gazza went in the one car, and the lads piled in Chop’s car, figuring that it was safer to keep the wanker as far away from Finn as possible, while Finn’s adrenaline levels were still through the roof.

 

And Chop won’t fucking stop bringing it up.

 

Finn walks into the pub a day later and he can hear the lad telling the story to a rapt audience - the entire gang is listening wide-eyed. Finn’s heart leaps, seeing Rae sitting right there, next to a frazzled-looking Chloe. Chop wouldn’t tell her, would he? He wouldn’t say they were talking about her, right?

 

He’s very close to turning around and legging it out of there, when Chop spots him and stands on his stool, pointing. “Here he is, man of the hour!” and he has no choice but to walk in, take a seat at the edge of the table. It happens to be next to Rae, and it makes him feel extremely uncomfortable. _There’s no way she knows,_ he thinks. She wouldn’t still be sitting there, would she? If she’d known the ugly words that were used to describe her.

 

"Ah, you should have been there, ladies, it were epic!" Chop howls.

"Did you really beat all them boys up?" Izzy asks, eyes big, half adoration, half worry.

 

"To a pulp!" Chop volunteers gleefully.

 

"Nah, it weren't like that," Finn mumbles, mortified. Lord knows how big the story is now, how many colourful details Chop’s added to the mix.  

 

“But I still don’t get what they were saying exactly?” Chloe leans forward. “Must have been bad for you to have a go at them like that.”

 

Finn looks at Chop, who gives him a tiny nod. He looks at Archie, who says, “Like we said, it was just the one guy. We hardly know him and he isn’t welcome anywhere we are after last night.”

“But what did he say?” she presses. Chloe never lets up.

 

“Just talking shit. In general. Nothing specific, but it were disgusting. People shouldn’t treat people like that, is all.” Finn can’t look at Rae while he’s mumbling this. He knows that she knows, that he knows about the knobheads the other day, doesn’t want her to suspect that last night was anything like that. Can’t they just drop the subject? Can’t she ask him about Knebworth so he can lie and tell her it was amazing and he loved it, and move on?

 

Thank God for Archie, who usually catches all the nuances in Finn’s moods, as opposed to Chop who steamrolls all over them. Arch smiles and announces in a _let’s wrap this up_ tone of voice, “Finn Nelson - defender of womankind!”

 

"Yeah,” Rae says next to him, “he does that." She says it quietly, just for him, and smiles. Just for him.

 

Finn feels his heart beat one time. Painfully.

 

And now they're sitting next to each other, they're quite close so it’s not so easy to watch her without her noticing. But he keeps glancing her way anyway, trying to see what all those wankers see when they look at her. He doesn't get it. Are they blind? Sure, she's not skinny, but she's not, like, massive. She's not grossly fat or nothin'. She's just... Rae. She always looked soft and curvy and smooth all over to him, now he comes to think about it. She’s got all that wavy hair, that's some good hair. And she's really quite pretty, and... her tits, God, she’s really got -

 

"Oi," She smiles a nervous, embarrassed smile, "Did your eyes get stuck?"

 

He averts his eyes, fast. "Sorry, was just thinking."

 

"Oh, well, don't think too hard, Finley. You gotta start slow when you’re just starting out.” She laughs at him. Finn frowns into his empty glass, but then suddenly realizes that she's teasing him, the way she does with all the rest of them. Result! The ice is thawing. She even puts her hand briefly on his arm, patting him in mock comfort. Then she turns her head to yell something at Chop at the bar, losing interest in Finn all together.

 

"Finn, you want?" Chop yells, and Finn yells back, "Yeah". There's a lot of heat coming from the place where she's just touched him, but he's not thinking about that. 

 

Chop comes over with too many drinks and he spills some and everyone yells and laughs, and Finn can't take his eyes off Rae and her laughing, mocking, mouth. That guy was mental, he thinks. Him and the others who agreed with him. They were the ones who were sick fucking pervs, saying a girl like that’s not sexy. Someone should tell them they're doing sex wrong.

 

"Earth to Finn," Chloe laughs at him, "Where did we lose ya?"

 

But he's not lost, he doesn't get lost, he’s in control at all times. He's just happy for the truce they seem to be in now. Rae and him, they're going to be mates, he knows it. Next time he gets her alone, he'll finally apologize for being such a sulky shit to her before, maybe she'll apologize for all the times she called him a wanker and a prick under her breath, and they'll move on to talking about music and laughing together. Then this miserable summer, where his nan is slipping away and there's nothing he can do about it, will be better.

 

+++

 

But she doesn't want to be his mate, does she?

 

No, she fucking doesn't, she made up her mind somewhere between the first hug he gave her, and the second one he attempted, that Finn Nelson is just not someone she wants to be friends with. What, too boring? Too full of himself? Nothing but a nice looking lad with nothing much to offer other than that? He shouldn't be surprised, ‘cause she's the one who sees through his armor of bullshit, and all the things he uses to appear more interesting than he actually is don't even impress her. Not all the music talk, not the brooding vibe, nothing. She's not impressed and maybe that's what got him about her in the first place but that's her choice and fine, whatever, he doesn't want to be her mate either, he shouldn't have come to this party when his heart wasn't in it, shouldn't have drunk so fucking much, but what else was there to do while waiting for soddin' Rae to come back from wherever-the-fuck.

 

And now he's drunk, so probably that's why he's so worked up. He can't stand this fucking party and the stupid fucking childish humiliating kissing games, and he shouldn't have come, should have stayed with his nan, that's where he really wanted to be. Not sitting in a circle, kissing girls he doesn’t want to kiss, trying to talk to a girl who just doesn’t give a fuck and pretends she doesn’t even hear him. He doesn’t think that’s what Nan meant when she told him to go to this thing.

 

It was just a few hours ago, but it feels like weeks. He sat on the edge of her bed and held her hand, his heart leaping because it felt so frail and tiny in his. The arms that used to carry him around the house, hold him against her hip while she was cooking, rocking him and singing “Long Tall Sally”, felt almost intangible now. She lies back against her pillow, looking exhausted, worn down to the bone, but she doesn’t let him go, she wants to hear everything, all of it, everything that happened since their last conversation.

 

He talks fast, he’s not sure why, it feels like he should cram as many words as possible before... before. He tells her about Knebworth again, what they sang, how it felt, what Archie did, what Chop said (his nan loves Chop stories the best). He skips over the other boys and all the parts that came after. He tells her about that afternoon in the pub. That his mates are having a party at Rae’s house (he leaves off the “sexy” part). Blushing, he shows her a stupid pointless pink envelope, and reads her the love letter three times, per her request.

 

“So dumb.” he mumbles and puts it back in his pocket.

 

“At least whoever wrote it has good taste.” she smiles, and at his grimace she adds. “What? You _are_ lovely, and anyone should want to make you hers.”

 

“God, Nan...”

 

“So who do we think sent it?”

 

“No idea.”

 

“Well who would you liked to have sent it?”

 

He shrugs. “No one. It’s embarrassing, isn’t it? Rae was right, sending a love letter is just stupid.” 

 

Damn. He told himself he wouldn’t mention Rae to Nan anymore, because she already seems to have some strange ideas about her. He lifts his eyes quickly, to see if she caught that little slip. She has.

 

“I’ve noticed that we talk a lot about Rae lately.”

 

 _Here we go._ Finn arranges his face in the most neutral and unaffected expression, which is not a stretch for him. He shrugs again. “Rae’s cool.”

 

“Yeah?” Nan’s eyes sparkle with renewed interest. Exactly the opposite result he was looking for. “What does she look like? You know how I like to imagine them all. All you told me about her is that she’s a big girl.”

 

Finn’s head shoots up. “I said that? No, I never said that!” Mortification seizes his chest and for a brief second he can’t draw a breath.

 

Nan looks at him. “When you told me about you punching that boy.”

 

“Oh! I...” Hugging his leg to him, he puts his finger through the hole in his jeans, absent-mindedly tearing the edges even more. “I don’t think I said that. She’s not big. She’s fine. She’s… fine. You can talk to her about things. Music.”

 

“Is she pretty?”

 

“Nana.”

 

“What? I like to imagine.”

 

“Just leave it, alright?”

 

“What colour are her eyes?”

 

He looks up in annoyance. “I don’t know, do I?”

 

“Honestly, I need pliers to pull information out of ya!”

 

But Nan is smiling, like she knows she’s upsetting him, and not only that - she knows why he’s upset. How? He doesn’t even know. “I’m only asking ya about your new friend, love, not to choose between the Beatles and the Stones or something.”

 

Finn just huffs. “I don’t know how to describe someone! Look, she’s got long hair, she’s kinda tall, she’s… Like, her face is always moving, you know? She’s got a lot of expressions and stuff. She wrinkles her brow like -” he tries to do the brow thing, not sure he manages it, but Nan is laughing. “and her mouth goes like that when she's angry... Which happens a lot. She gets really worked up about the nuttiest things...”

 

Finn smiles down at the tear in his jeans, then lifts his eyes to see his nan looking at him with a contemplative smile.

 

“So, she’s pretty?”

 

He sighs in defeat. “Yes, she’s pretty. She’s okay.”

 

“Not annoying like we first thought?”

 

“No, not really. She’s interesting. A good mate.”

 

“A good mate.” she repeats, eyebrow raised. Finn ignores that.

 

“Yeah, like a good addition to the gang.”  
  
He’s waiting for the next question, but one’s not coming. Nan is quiet for a long moment, which is really jarring after the lively conversation they’ve just had. It gives Finn a chance to notice how pale she is, how tired she looks all of a sudden.

 

She raises her arm slightly, signaling him to come closer. The tubes that are wrapped around it stretch. Finn quickly pulls his chair closer.

 

“Nana, what happened?”

 

“Nothing, nothing, love...” but she looks almost close to tears.

 

“Are you in pain? Should I call the doctor?”

 

He doesn’t actually move to get up, but she holds his hand tighter. “I just... Finny... I wish I had more time, more time with you. Both of you, my boys.”

 

He shakes his head. “Don’t talk that way, Nan.”

 

“I know I should be realistic, but I don’t want to be,” she emphasises the last words by hitting the bed with their joined hands. ”I want to shout, I want to shake my fist and yell - IT’S NOT FAIR!” A cough seizes her and Finn rushes to grab a glass of water and bring it to her lips. The familiar panic climbs up his body, reaching his gut and twisting everything inside.

 

“There is still so much I want to talk to you about, there is so much I want to listen to...” her voice is losing its strength, as if she’s wasted it talking about girls and love letters with him. But underneath the rasp of it still runs a steel wire, same as always. “Listen.” She grabs his hand again. “You should go to this party, Finny. I wish I had time to let you stew in all these feelings, to work it all out in your own time, but I don’t. Just trust me... Go. Don’t worry about me, I promise I’ll still be here tomorrow.” she winks.

 

“Nan, I’m not going, what are you talking about?” he manages to choke out. From the corner of his eye, he sees his dad coming into the room. Finn tries to pull back, but she is holding on to his arm. She holds him beside her not with force, but with love, with the weight of everything he owes her.

 

“What’s going on?” His dad asks. Nan’s head turn to him, and she reaches vaguely with her other arm. Gary rushes to her side.

 

“Make Finn go to the party tonight, Gar,” she orders.

 

“Party? What party?”

 

“With his mates, at a girl’s house. He has to go or I will never forgive you, either of you. You know how stubborn I can be.” And with that she sinks into the pillows, breathless from the effort. She lets go of her boys’ arms.

Finn and Gary look at each other.

 

“Well,” Gary scratches his head, “seems to me you’re going to a party, me lad.”

 

“No, dad. I should stay - “

 

But his dad only shakes his head. “You heard the boss.”

 

 

As he left the hospital, the wind hit his face and it felt wonderful, refreshing and clean. He felt sorta hopeful. He couldn’t admit even to himself how relieved and happy he was to get that permission to go to the sexy party with everyone. If there was any guilt, he’s pushed it to the back of his mind. After all, Nan wouldn’t have sent him if she weren’t okay. And it wasn’t as thought Finn’s left her alone; his dad was right there with her. And Finn had planned to check up on them every now and then.

It should have been fine.

 

+++ 

 

But nothing is fine, is it? Nothing. Everything is shit, life is so fucked up, so of course, why would that one thing be going right for him? Why can’t he just go to a fucking party and sit and talk about music and maybe nip into the closet and... And what? What did he think would happen? Shit, he’s so pissed. His thoughts don’t make any sense.

 

He stumbles to the bedroom to use the phone again. He just needs to talk to Nan real quick, just hear her voice, she'll talk him out of this crazy mood and berate him for being drunk when he speaks to her. That would suck but he can’t help it, he really needs to talk to her. That’s why he drunkenly dials the numbers, even though he knows that she'll be asleep and he'll only get the night nurse.

 

But he gets his dad.

 

_What are you still doing there so late, dad?_

 

That's when it's all over for Finn.

 

+++

 

At first it's just information.

 

She's gone.

 

 

Not like he didn't expect this.

 

_What now, dad? Should I come over there? Be with you at the hospital while you make arrangements and whatever you do? No? Okay. Should I go home? And be alone in that dark house where she used to cook tea and give hugs? No, not that either. But I can't stay here, this is a party. Can't be at a party while me nan is dead. Why is there even a party? Me nan is dead!_

 

That's when it hits and it's not like a punch, like they say, it's more like a wave, it drowns him in an instant, it folds him in two. He can't have imagined this. He didn't really prepare, did he, no he didn't, because even though he knew she's sick, she's really fucking sick and it's any day now, and she has her good days and bad days but it is a matter of _days_ , he knows, he saw her skin turn thin and sheer, her body getting smaller, with every passing day. But he didn't really - 

not really.

 

Not really, oh my god, she's really gone, she's gone, but he didn't say the thing he wanted to say, didn't tell her, did she know? He doesn't know if she knew, _Jesus Christ, this isn't happening to me -_  

 

But it does, it is. A second wave, a tsunami of pain. Finn knows now that when they say it hurts, it's not a flowery metaphor. His nan is dead and it's so fucking painful, it's a physical hurt, worse than any punch he ever took at boxing, worse than breaking his leg when he was nine years old, worse. It tears his body in two. Maybe he's doubled over, he doesn't know, his throat is burning, there's a scream trapped there he'll not let out. 

 

Because he's in Rae Earl's house, he's at a soddin’ party. She died and he was getting drunk and playing fucking spin-the-bloody-bottle and worrying about what a girl thinks of him instead of being where he should have been. Shame washes through him, because even though he can’t admit it, he knows deep down that he knew it was touch-and-go for her tonight, but he couldn’t not go to this party. He was choosing CDs and imagining all the arguing and banter they’d have over them, all the while pushing the thoughts about Nan’s condition further into the back of his mind. What a fucking kid you are, Finn Nelson, a fucking joke. 

 

Through the haze of pain he suddenly hears the phone, a shrill beeping, alerting that it's off the hook. Finn should put it down, he should get out of this room, this fucking house, go home, he can't be here, can't stay here another fucking moment ‘cause his lungs are burning with unshed tears, and there's no air coming in. And where will he go? Outside, where there's light and booze and laughing people making out in closets? Should he go mingle maybe? His nan is dead but maybe he should go change the record, he did say he'd be in charge of music. Maybe he'll take a seat next to that Danny bloke and get another earful of the freaky shit he used to do with Rae when they were together? ‘Cause Nan's dead but everyone else seems to be fine about it - and he can't get up and go, he can't even breathe. He hears himself weeping, a strangled sound. Didn't think it'd be like this, he thought he would be stoic and reserved like those people at funerals in movies, stony faces and clenched jaws. But he's just a kid, fuck, Jesus, he's a kid and she's his mum, his nan, she's the one who takes care of him, she's the one who knows him and cares about everything, every little thing that makes up him, she loves,

 

loved,

 

Oh, God...

 

"Finn...?"

 

Oh, fuck me, can this get any worse? The very last person he wants in here right now, and she's coming in, and he's a fucking mess and can't even begin to pull himself together. He looks at her, he wants to say - go away, I want to be alone, you don't understand what just happened, she's dead, Rae, and I'm in a million pieces and I can't handle you. But she doesn't read the plea in his eyes, she closes the door and sits next to him, he wants to shout but there's no air, no oxygen, no end to the pain in his chest. 

 

Rae takes him in her arms, the hug he wanted so badly she gives now for free. She puts her arms around him and says things, and he should feel better, safe and protected maybe, like he's got someone on his side, but he never felt this alone in his entire life. He holds on to her, tight, tighter, he's crying all over her but he can't stop and she's the one who came in here so, and, but, it's no good and he’s so alone he’s dying from it. He’s small and abandoned and lonely in the world, like a tiny baby animal, zero chances of survival. She's dead, and she left him, like that first time, he's left behind again, who's gonna take care of him now that his mum, his nan, is gone? Who's gonna want to know every thought and feeling, will bug him endlessly until he relents? Who's gonna keep his secrets? Who's gonna love him – 

 

Who's gonna love him anymore - 

 

He chokes on a sob, this horrible sound that he can’t associate with himself escapes, then he’s coughing, drowning. Seriously, he can't breathe. He pulls away from Rae, panicked, his nose is stuffed up and he tries to gulp air but all that gets in is terror and it courses through his veins - his eyes are bulging, the edges of the room become blurry, darker, he's slipping away - "Finn!”

 

His eyes snap to Rae, she's been calling his name he guesses, maybe for a while now. "Look at me! It's okay. Breathe slowly, don't try so hard." But how can he do that? He has to breathe and there's nothing coming in, his throat is burning and the thought that he has any control over any part of his life is pathetically laughable, and his nan is dead and everything is fucked - "Here," Rae takes his palms in her palms, quite forcefully. She flattens hers against his. "Push against me," she says, and her voice leaves no room for argument. "We're gonna breathe together." She gulps air meaningfully and he tries to do the same, his eyes are glued to her eyes, but he can't do it, "There we go...", he's not strong like her, he's just a kid, "One, two, three, you're doing fine, four, just push against my palms, like that, five, six, seven..."

 

+++

 

There's a pillow between their heads, so for a while all he can see is her mouth, and that's not so bad. Are they really talking like this? All intimate and like proper friends, maybe best of friends. It’s mental. 

 

Later, she sleeps and he watches her a bit, because he can, because she's beautiful. He listens to his own calm breathing and he can't fathom how she got him from there, to here. 

 

She's magic, Rae is. Maybe he suspected it all along, from the way she placed herself in their gang and made it ten times better, but now he knows for sure. The things she’d said, the things she knows how to do - Finn can't think of a single person alive that could have done what she did in that room. He didn't even know where he went in his head, that dread, all the pain overwhelming, but it was okay in the end, because Rae knew. Talked him off a ledge.

 

When he’d told her, I don't know what to do, she’d said, well, here are some options. And he chose to stay here with her, even though this is a party and he doesn't belong here, and maybe it was soft and embarrassing, but he seriously couldn't break away from her yet after all that. She called his dad to let him know Finn’s staying the night. She did the things he couldn't, so he doesn't have to. She is sixteen years old and she is already more amazing than anyone he's ever met. 

 

The jukebox in his mind puts on a record. _I wanna talk tonight, until the mornin' light, 'bout how you saved my life._

 

+++

 

The following days are worse than he could ever have imagined. The Nelson household is in a state of dangerous fragility. Father and son walk around each other cautiously, silently. It’s as if the entire house is standing on the edge of a cliff and could, at any movement, tip over and hurl them into the abyss.

 

At night, Finn lies awake and tries to commit to memory every single moment he’s ever had with his nan. He thinks about all the things she’d told him, and then all the things she'll never say, and it makes him want to bash his head into the wall. Especially in her last few days, when he knows there were things she had wanted to tell him, things he was too scared to face. Every word he’s rejected weighs heavily on his heart until he's sobbing in pain, head pressed into the wall, until his throat is raw and his voice is gone, until the door opens silently, and his dad walks in. They sit together for long hours, hardly talking at all. On the third night, Gary shoves Finn over to lie next to him, and they cry together over the missing part of their family. The unoccupied room downstairs, full to the brim with her possessions, stands empty like a gaping mouth.

 

+++

 

After the funeral, his mates pretty much leave him alone to wallow in his pain. But not even a tragedy can stop Chop’s entertainment train for long. Eventually he does start calling three times a day, then soliciting Archie and even Izzy to call and encourage Finn to do stuff with the gang. It feels wrong and a bit surreal to Finn and he always says that no, he doesn’t want to go to Rutlands or to sneak into clubs or to go sky diving or whatever Chop has in mind next.

 

“How about you start small, then?” Archie suggests one time. “Everyone’s going to the movies. You could sit in the dark and frown like you like...”

 

They’re on Finn’s bed, lying side by side with their legs up against the wall, like they used to when they were kiddies. Archie plays with little plastic figures he found on the shelf while Finn thinks it over. Does he really want to go out amongst people, pretend that everything is a-okay? Archie looks at him, then says in a low voice, “If it gets too much, I promise to get you right out of there. Me and you, mate.”

 

When Finn says nothing, Archie looks back at the figures in his hand and says lightly, “or you could get into a row with Rae, that’s always fun.”

 

“Is Rae going?”

 

“’Course, she’s in the gang, isn’t she?”

 

Frankly, he really would like to talk to Rae again. Seems weird that they haven't spoken or seen each other since that morning. It's probably dumb, but he feels like they've been through something together, something the others won't understand, because they weren't there.

 

So for the first time since the funeral, he feels some sense of purpose in getting up, taking a shower and putting some thought into what he’s wearing.

 

+++

 

Everyone’s waiting at the entrance when Finn and Archie arrive. They all seem very happy to see him, which is nice, but he really kinda came here to talk to one person, and she’s standing at the back of the group.

 

After Izzy’s fierce hug and Chloe’s kiss on the cheek, it’s her turn. In the short moment between Chloe moving out of the way and him and Rae making eye contact, he’s suddenly worried. What if it all goes back to the way it’s been before? What does he do if she decides she can’t stand him again?

 

But the moment passes and she smiles at him as he approaches. “Hiya,” she says, and it’s ridiculous how much he wanted to hear that voice. “Glad you decided to come with.” Is it him or is she a little flushed, a little wary?

 

“How are we on hugs these days?” he jokes, and suddenly it seems that Rae herself is pretty relieved. She even kinda laughs, assures him hugs are in again, and gives him a brief one. When they break apart, he could swear she’s blushing just a bit. Or it could be the reflection of the huge neon light above their heads.

 

They all go inside, Izzy showing the guy at the entrance all the tickets she’s bought for them in advance. They stock up on popcorn and candy and soft drinks, and it’s the most normal he’s felt in ages.

 

“Well, get a move on before you make me miss the trailers.” Chop says, while trying to balance an armful of food and drink. Izzy leads them all to the third floor, and towards one of the theatres.

 

“Hey, I thought it was in Theatre 3. Are you sure -”

 

“Yeah, I’m sure.” She cuts Archie off. “Says so on the ticket, see?” she flashes the ticket in front of Archie, and then gives them all in a crumpled stack to the usher.

 

It’s only when the movie starts for real that the jig is up.

 

“What the hell, Iz? Thought we were going to Striptease!” Chop whispers loudly.

 

“As if we’d go to that!” Chloe tells him. “It was supposed to be Romeo + Juliet.”

 

“That’s what she told me, as well.” Archie sniggers. “What’s going on, Izzy?”

 

“You guys never agree on movies and you all talked my head off about which tickets to buy and I knew whatever I chose, the rest would just grumble, so there. We’re watching what _I_ want to watch - Mars Attacks!.”

 

“You sneaky little - “ Chop looks at her, kinda impressed.

 

“Shhh!” someone says from the row below them. They all quiet down.

 

For about ten seconds.

 

“I can’t believe you, Iz!” Chloe whisper-shouts. “I was all ready for an evening with Leo!”

 

“This one has Pierce Brosnan in.”

 

“Him? He’s old!” Chloe pouts, folding her arms and leaning back in defeat.

 

“Still hot.” Iz concludes, and does the same.

 

“Would you girls stop talking about men like that?” Chop fakes delicate sensibilities. “It’s real offensive-like.”

 

“Oh, okay, Mr. Striptease.” Chloe pokes his side.

 

“Oi, that’s an art-form.”

 

“Pardon me, the movie is starting, would you mind?” says someone off to the left, being very British about it.

 

“Sorry!” they all whisper together, and it sounds like thunder. Finn hears Rae’s laughter spilling out despite herself on the other side of Archie, who’s sitting between them.

 

“Hey,” he whispers above Archie’s head. “Wha’d _you_ get, Rae?”

 

They have a ridiculous moment where she leans forward, then backwards, but he’s already tried to find her in front. Archie tries to help by leaning back just as Finn is straightening up, and again they all need to cover their mouths to stifle giggles. Eventually they succeed in finding each other’s eyes, and she can answer a question he’s already forgot he’d asked. “She told me Dragonheart, but really I’m not bothered, they all sound pretty crap to me.” Rae says. “How ‘bout you?”

 

“Same. Dragonheart, but I guess this is fine as well.”

 

They look up at the screen just in time to see the most ridiculous looking aliens, and both collapse giggling once more. _That’s it,_ he thinks. They’ll never be able to stop now.

 

They giggle all through the alien’s helium voices, through the cheesiest TV broadcast, and eventually they lose it at Archie saying: “What in hell _is_ this movie, anyway?”

 

After that there are a few full minutes where the group is fairly quiet, not counting Izzy and Chop fighting for dominance over the giant popcorn. Finn strains to listen in on Rae and Archie when they speak in each other’s ears in low voices. Rae says, “Michael J. Fox is cute. He’s so tiny,” to which Archie mocks, “Fits in your pocket.” and she answers, “I like that in a man.”

Finn trains his eyes on the screen as they snicker.

 

“Shhh!” someone sitting to their right says pointedly. “Would you shut it?”

 

“Sorry...” Archie says. “Won’t happen again”.

 

But Rae can’t seem to help herself, she has to make funny comments, and the movie’s really asking for it, too. Rae comments in a dry voice, she dubs the characters under her breath, she gives marks out of ten for outfits. Finn laughs so much he has to hide his face inside his shirt at one point.

 

They keep getting shushed. Finn can tell that Archie is clearly torn between enjoying himself and his need to be okay with every fucking person in the world. Eventually he suggests, quite forcefully, that both Finn and Rae should just go sit in the back row, way up at the top, where no one is sitting.

 

Rae looks at him over Arch’s head, eyebrows raised in question. Finn nods. Sounds great. They go up the stairs and sit right at the top, side by side. This is so different than how they used to be before, that it makes his head spin. They smile at each other and she says “Shame we didn’t bring any popcorn with us, we could have chucked it at their heads.” she motions with her chin towards the row of their four friends, only visible as silhouettes against the screen.

 

He tries to come up with something funny to say but his mind is suddenly so blank. He’s very aware of her leg right next to his. They’re not touching but they could be. They turn their heads to the screen. He’s worried that they’ve ruined the vibe.

 

He shouldn’t have worried. It doesn’t take Rae a minute before she’s back to the commentator’s role. Years later he won’t remember what that movie was even about, but he’ll remember jems like “Ohhh, hello, Miss Pointy Tits!” and the loud cry of “Holy fuck!” when a dog trotted on screen wearing a girl’s head.

 

That dog comment is what finally gets them kicked out. An usher comes over and asks them politely to kindly fuck off outta there.

 

They leave the theatre in tears and collapse outside, holding on to the lobby wall.

 

“Oh, shit...!” she wipes her eyes. “You’re a bad influence, Finley.”

 

“Me? I was just an innocent bystander!”

 

She laughs more, makes a face. "You're the one who couldn't control his laughter."

 

"Oi! You're the one trying to make me laugh!"

 

"I weren't trying to make you laugh." she lies with a grin, and they start walking towards the snack bar. Laughing so hard makes you thirsty, apparently. "I merely expressed my critical opinion, like always." Rae explains.

 

"Oh, so you talk that much during all movies?"

 

"Absolutely. Even when I'm watching a video alone at home."

 

"And are you this funny when you're alone?"

 

They pause at the counter, Finn eyeing the colourful display of candy and soft drinks. He glances at her when she doesn't immediately answer. She seems flustered, maybe a little flushed. Finn wonders what he's said.

 

"You think I'm funny?" Rae asks the crisps packets in the stand next to her.

 

"Mate, did we not just get kicked outta the movie?"

 

The slight smile on her face vanishes completely at this. What happened? He doesn't know. And he's so shit at situations like this. If she was a date he'd know how to distract her, but what do you do with friends you don't really know that well, not at all well enough to guess what got them down?

 

"Right, I'm getting you a hotdog. Want some Coke as well?"

 

If anything, this makes her seem even more alarmed, "Oh, no, no, you're alright -"

 

He's handing a note to the bored-looking guy behind the counter, who keeps looking between the two of them as if he can't exactly work out what he's seeing. People are strange.

 

Rae puts her hand on his,  “Just get me a Coke if you’re getting one.”

 

“No hotdog?”

 

“No hotdog.”

 

He pays for the drinks and buys a large packet of Skittles as well. Just in case. They stand for a second, looking around. There’s still some time before the rest of the wankers get out of the movie, and no place for them to sit. Finn shrugs. “Floor?” he suggests.

 

They sit against the wall and cross their legs in front of them. Funny, they’re kinda dressed the same. He wonders if they look the same to strangers. Maybe that’s why the guy was staring? Probably not. He’s got short hair, and she’s most definitely a girl, no one would mistake her for anything other. Suddenly he can’t think of anything to say. So he opens the Skittles pack and offers her some from the palm of his hand.

 

Rae looks at them for a longer moment than needed for such a decision. “I know it’s mostly purple. Want me to find you some green ones? They’re the best.”

 

“No, eww, find me some orange ones.”

 

They busy themselves with finding their favourite flavours in a pack that seems to be mostly purples. Rae makes many amusing faces. He’s just about to tell her about a song he’s been listening to since his nan died, “Sound of Music” by Joy Division, when out of the blue, she asks, “How are you, Finn?”

 

“Wha’? Fine.”

 

“D’you miss your nan? Been meaning to ask ya.”

 

Immediately, there’s a lump in Finn’s throat. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to talk about Nan without the tears coming, so he mumbles. “M’ fine.” But Rae gives him a look, the sort of look you give someone you’ve known for ages, and you’re familiar with their every expression. “You don’t believe me?”

 

“I do,” she hurries to say. “I’m sure if you say you’re fine, you are.” But the way she looks at him says otherwise. As if she knows a thing or two about lying when you say you’re fine. “But...” Rae’s fingers play absently with her shoelace, and she looks at it intently as she gingerly adds, “you forget I saw you that night. You... were not okay.”

 

They sit quietly for a long time, both fascinated by her shoelace going round and round between her fingertips. Eventually Finn admits, “I do miss her, yeah. I’m - I’m afraid I’ll forget her. Doesn’t feel right, doing this.” he gestures around, at the movie house they’re in, at the whole situation. “Anything like this, really.”

 

“Is that why you’ve not been around lately?”

 

“Suppose so.” He shrugs. “I just... It feels like I shouldn’t - I dunno. Look, can we not talk about it? Is that okay?”

 

“’Course it is. Sorry, I didn’t mean to stick my nose in -”

 

“You didn’t. It’s fine.”

 

“Okay.” she says, and she doesn’t ask anymore. He’s glad they dropped the subject, and now he can tell her about the song and they can talk about nice things, like music and bands.

 

“Have, have you ever had anyone close like that die?” He asks instead. Rae scrunches her face in concentration, trying to think. Finn knows the answer is no, because if she had gone through what he’s going through, she wouldn’t need to think so much.

 

“Not really...” she says, “I had an uncle who died, but we weren’t close. He lived in York. And... Well, I... knew someone, a friend, who almost died.”

 

He looks at her. “What happened to him?”

 

“She... didn’t want to live anymore.”

 

“Jesus. So did she...?”

 

“Yeah.” Rae hugs her knees and stares at the ugly carpet.

 

“But she’s alright? She didn’t die?”

 

“She’s fine.”

 

 

 

 

He’s quiet when they all leave the theatre and walk down to the pub. Rae is walking with Chop, listening to him describing the parts of the movie that they’d missed, and laughing. Archie is by Finn’s side, making sure he’s okay, probably. He’s talking but Finn’s a bit distracted. He’s thinking about maybe asking Rae to come over to listen to some music at his sometime. Would that be okay? Or too much? Are they those sort of friends yet? Probably not. He doesn't know, doesn't know anything about this sort of thing, being mates with a girl but in a way that makes you want to have more and more of her time. He likes Izzy, and Chloe is all right, but he doesn't do anything with either of them when they’re not with the gang. But with Rae, it feels to him like they’re way passed all that.

 

He says goodnight and heads home as they all head towards The Swan. Chloe tries to change his mind about coming, but Rae only smiles at him, and gives him a quick hug goodbye. Her hugs are always really nice, he knows. Just warm and... nice. It warms him on the way home.

 

But as soon as he closes the front door, the smell of the house is the smell of his nan, and he shatters to pieces on the living room sofa, shaking with regret and shame about all the fun he’s had tonight, all the thinking he’s done about the new situation, and how funny Rae is, and how much he liked it when she’d called him Finley, and how awesome it would be if she decided that that was her new nickname for him; all the thoughts that went through is head, none of them about his dead nan.

 

+++

 

Summer slugs along, full of warm days and perfect skies. Finn finds it a bit mindboggling at times, that this important woman is gone and still, there is weather. 

 

His friends make it easier to get through the days. He finds that it's easy to just go with whatever the gang decides to do next, and tag along. They don't mind if he's quiet for long stretches of time, and they make him laugh, and then a whole day goes by without the tears overwhelming him.

 

And yet, at the back of his mind, he’s always filled with dread. It's too soon to go about his business, it's too soon for her absence to become just something he lives with. These days of excruciating pain and grief are as precious to him as they are horrid. It means that she mattered, that she's missing, that she is solid and real, not just a face in a photo album. It's not Finn's first time with losing someone important, but unlike before, he knows that his nan didn't choose to leave him, that she would have done anything to stay by his side, would have given everything to have just one more day with him. He knows what happens with time; things start to fade. It's only natural that after a while, he’ll forget her voice, the details of her face become more blurry in his mind's eye.

 

The thought of this happening to his nan is chilling, so he makes himself replay those moments of hearing the news of her passing. Checks that the pain is still sharp and raw. When he feels the wave washes over him, in a strange way, he relaxes. Then, without even noticing, his mind always turns to Rae.

 

Rae is a distraction, like how a new and fascinating thing can take over your life sometimes. Everything she does is surprising and curious. It feels like he bought a record on a whim, just cause it was there and he might as well, only to put it on and discover a whole new world of music and ideas and texture he didn't know existed. He wants to follow her around, wants to play her over and over and over until her every note, every lyric is as familiar to him as the markings on his own face.

 

When thoughts like that well up inside him he shakes his head, lights a fag and try to take it easy. It's too much to put on her. She's just a person, a new friend. It doesn't work like that - lose a person, gain a person. He knows full well that he can't fill the hole in his chest with her, and wouldn't know how to go about it if he could. Not that he would. Not that he wants to.

 

"That's not what it's about," he grumbles at his dad, annoyed, when Gary points out that he's been spending a lot of time, more often than not, with the new girl in his life. "Don't call her that, it's not that."

 

Not, not, not, he tells himself, but still he puts her record on whenever he gets a chance.

 

+++

 

So when she’s absent, he notices faster than he's willing to admit. He walks into The Swan, his eyes searching, but she's not there. Just like she hadn't come to the cafe the day before, or to watch them play football the day before that. A whole gaggle of girls, some he barely knows, were sitting by the sidelines, cheering from time to time, but not her.

 

“Hey, where's Rae?” He asks Chloe, as she comes in the pub.

 

She freezes for a second in the act of sliding her bag off her shoulder to stare at him. “Oi, give a girl a mo’ to sit down.” He looks at her expectantly until she does sit, and she makes an annoyed face.

 

“How should I know? Do you think Rae runs every little thing she does by me? She has a life beyond the five of us, you know.”

 

Finn moves uncomfortably on the bench. _What kind of things does she do?_ He's itching to ask. _What does she have beyond the gang?_ There's so much he doesn't know about her, yet.

 

“Well, you’re her best mate, how do you not know where she's been all week?” _What's beyond the gang?_ He wonders. _A different group of friends? That guy from the sexy party? Someone else? Does she have a boyfriend?_ He never asked.

 

Chloe huffs. “Seems to me like you re her best mate now, judging by how much time you guys spend together lately. Maybe I should ask you where she's at.” She crosses her arms and seems angry, but he can't think why. Is she jealous of him and Rae's new friendship? He doesn't want to, but he feels a secret thrill about that. Her new best mate.

 

Archie comes back from the bathroom, and, hearing the end of the conversation, says, “Rae's not been feeling well”.

 

Both Chloe and Finn look up at Archie. Finn thinks they’re faces must be matching right now. “How the hell do you know?” Chloe asks, sounding cross.

Finn almost says, _Oh, Archie always knows_ , but he holds it back at the last minute, surprised at the bitter feeling in him. And still, he can't not be annoyed. How is it that Archie still gets such an opening into Rae's world, after what he did?

 

Archie shrugs. “Talked to her last night. She sounded poorly.”

 

For some reason, this puts an image in Finn's mind, of Rae lying in her bed, wearing a white vest, her body gleaming with sweat, licking her parched lips. He forces himself to concentrate on the conversation, pushes the shocking thought away. But later on that night, it comes right back, unbidden and disturbing.

 

When she comes back a couple of days later, she doesn't seem poorly or sick at all, she looks just fine. Maybe her smile is a little forced in the beginning, but after a snakebite or two, after feeding some coins into the jukebox, she seems like her old self again, and things go back to normal.

 

God bless Chop, he's always got some summer activity brewing, a half-arsed plan designed for fun and sexy times, if at all possible. On Sunday morning a large group of them all pile into cars and scooters, and drive for half an hour with Chop leading the procession. When they spill out of the cars, they're in a large wild field on the other side of the river.

 

One of Lincolnshire's old mansions is standing majestically in the middle of the field, or would have been, if it wasn't abandoned and falling apart.

 

"What the hell, Chop?" Archie asks. He does not like the idea of walking through a dying field. Too much nature for him.

 

Finn expects Rae to say something hilarious, but in the din of voices, hers is missing. She's still not completely back to herself today. Her being so quiet, it’s not natural. He feels uneasy when he can't engage her in real conversation. Oh, she smiles and answers when they talk to her, but it seems somehow false to Finn.

 

"It'll be brilliant," Chop doesn't mind any of them. He is busy with his task of unloading the car. He hands them blankets and two folding chairs, many bags full of food and beers. "Wait till you see this place, it's amazing."

 

They all look skeptical as they near the house. Its beautiful columns and buttresses are covered in graffiti and the entire area is littered with bottles and cans. And yet, there's something beautiful and arresting about it. As if under all that mistreatment, under the weight of all those years of abandonment, it is still doing its job, performing its duties. It still has worth. A hush falls on the group as they all look up at peeling paint and broken stain glass windows.

 

"What'd I tell ya?" says Chop.

 

Finn glances at Rae real quick, to see her reaction, and is momentarily stunned by how utterly beautiful she is in this moment. She's looking up in awe, her mouth slightly agape, her eyes caressing the facade, looking back and forth, taking in all the details. The edges of her short checkered skirt are waving in the slight breeze, brushing against her legs, the wind pinning it briefly to the contours of her thighs, then releasing. Finn looks away as fast as he can. He can't deny what just happened in his body at the sight of her. Even he's not in that much denial.

 

As they all follow Chop to the back of the mansion, where there's an open archway that leads to a broken stairway, he keeps glancing at her. He's racking his brain for something to say to her, but there's nothing. Where once there were thoughts, there is now only heat. If he tries opening his mouth, God only knows what will come out.

 

"Well?" Chop gestures an invitation for them to start climbing the stairway.

 

"Excuse me? No, I'm not climbing that thing." Chloe crosses her arms. "Do you see my shoes? This skirt? Oh, and also, I like being alive, thank you."

 

"Chop, this thing is falling apart, mate!" says Barney, looking up and up. "Where does it even lead?"

 

"The roof, ya bunch of small-minded people of little faith! People go up there all the time. All the time, and it's fine."

 

"Yeah, hardly anyone’s fallen off yet." mutters Rae. She's speaking to Archie, but at least she's speaking.

 

"I don't think we should go," says Izzy, her eyes are huge.

 

Chop looks completely devastated by her lack of support. He puts his arm around her. "Hey, would I ever make you do somethin' dangerous?"

 

Izzy takes a hesitant guess. "...No?"

 

Meanwhile, Archie and Rae are still engaged in a private conversation off to the side, clearly not interested in the outcome of the debate. That's kinda rude.

 

Archie says to her: "I knew I dreaded this day."

 

"Me too." she says, but her eyes are still devouring every architectural detail of the interior. "I don't like surprises. And it's way too humid and sunny today for adventures in the fields."

 

"Hey," Archie smiles. "A dreaded sunny day!"

 

"Wanna meet me at the cemetery gates?" She shoots right back, smiling. Hell, she’s practically laughing. Finn's guts churn.

 

He walks away, done with listening in on their little chat. Why does he never say things like that to her? If he’d’ve tried, he'd probably have come up with something lame like - _don't worry, it'll get cooler later on_.

 

Eventually, the force of nature that is Chop’s talent for getting them into trouble prevails, and everyone climbs, moaning and complaining, up the clearly crumbling, once grand, stone staircase.

 

They all shut up again when they get to the roof. It’s a whole different story there, when a slight breeze brushes past, making the warmth more bearable. Suddenly the sun feels amazing, and the fields stretch in front of them in every direction, touched by golden light. The cars they came in glimmer just to their left, so they must be on the side of the house, not facing the front. Far beyond the dirt road they used to drive up here, stretches a thin line of trees, and beyond that, the town is sprawled in all its majestic and less-majestic parts. River Welland with its green banks is a stitch across the landscape.

 

“What’d I tell ya, huh?” Chop is grinning from ear to ear. “You know, it’s a sad state of affairs when your own mates don’t trust ya.” His arms are full of folded deck chairs and an ice box full of booze, and he drops it all unceremoniously on to the tar.

 

People start to make themselves comfortable, spreading their stuff around as if they’re on a sprawling grassy hill, not a hard stone surface in the middle of nowhere. Archie is pointing out historical points of interest on the horizon to a bored-looking Rae and Chloe. “Look, just there, you can sorta see relics of the old Stamford Canal...”

 

Finn picks up a folding chair and moves down the roof a bit, settling a few metres away from the main group. Suddenly it’s all too crowded and noisy for him. He puts his earphones on, presses play on the trusty ol’ Walkman, and stares ahead, shutting the lot of them out. They leave him pretty much to himself through the whole of side B, and he’s debating whether or not to flip to A again (it really is an epic mix, but that fucking Spaceman track is stuck on the beginning) when Archie comes over, dragging a chair and two unopened cans of beer, and sits next to him.

 

Finn accepts the beer and they touch cans in a toast. “To Chop, leading us to new and exciting locations and not into a heap of trouble for once. Who would have thought?” Archie says.

 

“The day is young, we may end up in jail yet.”

 

They drink in a friendly silence for a minute. Eventually Finn asks, “History lesson over, I gather?”

 

“Yeah... the girls weren’t into it.” Archie looks down at Finn over his sunglasses. “Go figure.”

 

Finn laughs, “Sorry mate, can’t say I blame them.”

 

Archie peers over to his right, where the others are making a right mess out of spreading a sort of picnic on a blanket that looks just as filthy as the aging roof. “Rae usually plays along for longer than this, pretending to be interested.” he says. The boys look over to where Rae and Chloe are standing, talking quietly and seriously. Rae stares at her shoes and Chloe puts an arm on her shoulder.

 

“That’s because she fancies ya.”

 

Why? Why did he say that? How did those words pass his lips? Why is he even putting this thought out into the world? He scuffs his shoe on a jagged edge of the roof, pretends he doesn’t want to swallow back every fucking syllable, when Archie looks back at him.

 

“She doesn’t, you know. We’re only mates, me and her. All we’ll ever be. Trust me.”

 

“So you say, but maybe she - “ _Shut up, Finn, can’t you fucking shut up?_

 

“No, she doesn’t. We’re so past that, mate. You have nothing to worry about.”

 

Finn looks at him. “Why would I worry?”

 

They stare at each other, saying nothing. The few gulps of beer Finn had taken before feel like lead in his stomach. “Ah... you know,” Arch fixes his sunglasses, “Thought you were worried about how I treated her before. I’m saying nothing like that is going to happen again. That’s all.”

 

“Oh. Yeah. Good.” Finn says to the top of his beer can.

 

Izzy’s voice rises suddenly out of the general chatter on the roof. “You are not lighting a fire up here, Chop, no way!”

 

The boys look back to see Chop and Iz in a stand-off. She’s got her hands on her hips and her mouth in a stern pout.

 

“Oh, here we go.” Archie says.

 

“He’s done for.” Finn says.

 

“Well, how am I supposed to cook these hotdogs?”

 

“Well, who told you to bring hotdogs?”

 

“Chill out, will ya? Tons of people’ve done this before!”

 

“I don’t care if the entire cast of Rent done it, we’re not lighting a fire on a bloomin’ roof.”

 

“Cast o’ what?”

 

“You got us all up here, now sit down and stop messing about.”

 

“Look, what is your problem? Thought you love the roof. Everyone loves the roof!” he half turns with his arms spread out. “If anything, you all owe ol’ Chopper an apology.” He points at Izzy. “You can go first.”

 

“Me? Why me?”

 

“You’re supposed to have my back!”

 

“Why?”

 

Chop sputters for a few seconds, colour rising in his cheeks at her angry stare. “W-what’d you mean? You’re me mate!”

 

“Yeah, well I’m not your mum or your girlfriend, so go ask Sam Moffat to have your back.”

 

She leaves him standing and walks in a huff to sit with Chloe, to the scattered claps and cheers from the amused crowd. Chop’s still standing there, looking like someone kicked his favorite puppy. “Iz -” he tries.

 

“Don’t talk to me.”

 

Archie and Finn look at each other and snigger. Finn takes out a rollie and sticks it in his mouth. “Idiot.” he shakes his head.

 

“Do you think we should tell him? That he’s in love with her?”

 

“Nah, all this is much more entertainin’. Finn smiles. “But serious, don’t think it’s our place.”

 

Archie grunts, pondering the question. “Maybe Iz’ll let him know, when she feels he’s ready.”

 

“What if he’s never ready? He is quite the knob.”

 

“Yeah...” Archie takes off his sunglasses and gives Finn a look. “Amazing how people can just lie to themselves like that, isn’t it?” It’s a pretty pointed look, but Finn can’t imagine what Archie might be implying with it. “Like, they feel something, they know it’s right, and they keep pretending everything’s cool, nothing’s changed...” Archie continues, still looking at Finn in concentration, as if he’s trying to read minute changes in Finns’ face.

 

Finn lights the rollie, looking back at his oldest friend. Maybe Arch is ready to share with him the truth about himself at last? “Well, I suppose people worry about how others will react, when they know how they really feel.”

 

“People should know that their true mates will back them up, no matter what. Probably be happy for them an’ all...” Archie’s voice is strange, as if he’s walking on eggshells.

 

“Yeah... they should.” Finn agrees, pointedly.

 

“Yeah.” Archie repeats, matching his tone.

 

They stare at each other, each waiting for the other one to speak.

 

“Well -” Archie starts, when Chop flops down on the floor at their feet.

 

“Bloody girls!” he grumbles. “What is her problem, anyway?”

 

They all look towards Izzy and Chloe, sitting on the far side, licking colourful popsicles. They’re lips are ruby red.

 

“Where’s Rae?” comes out of his mouth without him even noticing. _Where’s Rae? Where’s Rae?_ It’s been a broken record at the back of his mind for days now. Only natural that it’ll slip out from time to time.

 

“Went round the back to the other side. Don’t know why, there’s nothing to see there that ya can’t see here. And she’s been no help at all, Raemundo has. Could’ve said something to Izzy, we could’ve had hotdogs by now...”

 

Chop keeps prattling on. Ignoring Archie’s look, Finn gets up and goes around to the other side to look for her.

 

As he turns the corner, Rae is revealed. She’s standing on the very edge of the roof, looking down. She’s still, dead still. Finn’s stomach twists in alarm. He approaches, slowly, scuffing his Converse on the tar floor so that she’s not startled by him. “Don’t do it, Rae, you have so much to live for!” he says, over-dramatic like, so that she’ll think he’s having a laugh.

 

She turns her face to him over her shoulder and what he sees in her eyes is not reassuring. She looks sad, she looks a million miles away. Then she takes a step back from the edge and smiles, and the scary moment is over. 

 

At some point she must have taken off her flannel over-shirt, and now she bends down, places it on the roof, and sits on it, her legs dangling over the edge. She doesn’t look at him and he’s not sure if it’s okay for him to be there. But then he hears her say, “I spy with my little eye, something beginning with F.”

 

Finn sits beside her, legs pulled to his chest and crossed, his arms hugging them. “Is it bigger than a bread box?”

 

“Well, Finley, that’s a hard one. See, in some ways it’s much bigger than a bread box, and in other ways it’s so fucking small.” She sighs. He’s lost. “Is it…” He looks about. They’re facing the town now, the tops of houses, rows and rows of houses, and all the little shitty yards, and all the little shitty lives. “F… Fucking Stamford?” he guesses, and Rae claps and cheers. “Well done, me lad!”

 

She leans back on her arms, Finn notices her T-shirt clinging. He doesn’t usually get to see her wearing so few layers of clothing. He can see the seams of her bra traced against the light material of her tee. He looks away and clears his throat. He spreads his arms in a wide semi-circle in front of them, encompassing the town, the houses, the river, Lincolnshire. “Look, Rae. Everything the light touches is our kingdom”. He says in a low, dramatic voice.

 

Rae turns to him, shock and amusement compete on her face. Her eyes are huge and she laughs, “No, you did not just quote that movie at me!”

 

“What’s wrong with it?"

 

“Oh, it’s fine if you’re twelve.”

 

“This from a girl with a Care Bears duvet.”

 

She snorts, “This from a bloke with little Ren and Stimpy plastic dolls,” she gestures with her hand as though she’s actually holding the dolls and making them dance on her thigh. Finn can’t help the bark of laughter at this.

 

“They were a gift!”

 

“Wow, someone really splurged.”

 

“And how d'you know about that?”

 

“I have my ways.”

 

“Bloody Archie,” he shakes his head, sniggering, pulling a crumpled cigarette and a lighter from his jeans pocket. “Anyway, how ‘bout your fluffy rainbow robe? So hardcore!”

 

“Cheeky!” She punches his arm but there’s not much impact to it ‘cause they’re both kinda giggling through their words now. He worries mentioning the robe was taking it a bit too far, when she croaks, “Anyway, what about your Manga porn mags under the bed, eh?”

 

Finn chokes, “Y-you what? I don’t – I don’t!”

 

“Oh, relax,” she manages between gales of laughter, “Just thought I’d take a guess.”

 

She’s laughing so hard at her own joke, her eyes sparkle. Like, fucking sparkle. He’s never seen her so free and so open and so… something. Maybe Archie got to see this Rae, Chloe must have, but it’s a first for Finn Nelson and he feels sorta proud. Sorta like he wants to pat himself on the back, _well done, me lad, for being here for this._ Hell, for getting them to this. There’s something bubbling inside him, not just laughter, although they are both at it now, but something lighter, and heavier, something like joy and excitement, something maybe dangerous but he can’t stop it and doesn’t want to.

 

“Anyway, where do you put _your_  porn mags, if not under the bed?” He manages to blurt out between sniggers.

 

“Oh, no,” Rae waves her hand about, as if that’ll help her breathe more easily, “My porn is more like - Q magazine, March Issue, Blur on the cover, specifically pages 104 to 110. And it’s right there on the nightstand for all to see.” She taps her finger to her temple, “The secret is to hide it in plain sight.”

He has literally nothing to answer to that. He just stares at her, and she smirks at him, and he definitely isn't thinking about anything she'd just said and not imagining anything, nope, mind's a blank. The laughter dies down but they’re still smiling, Rae turns her face away and seems suddenly shy and he still feels so fucking good he’ll maybe sing some Lion King later.

 

He remembers the fag in his hand and takes a drag. Rae looks out at the view. The sun has begun to set and the wind is picking up. Finn watches little tendrils of black hair rising away from her face, brushing her cheek, moving slightly against her neck. He sucks on his cigarette. He wants to touch her so badly, to take some of that hair and gently move it behind her ear, watch her shiver at his touch. He bites his lip, hard. _Pull it together_ , he says to himself, _she’s your friend, she’s having a nice moment, exchanging some playful banter with a mate. It’s not her fault all this is turning you on._

 

But he can't look away, as Rae closes her eyes, sighs and says in the softest of voices, “Don’t you just love the wind on your face? I swear, when I can feel the breeze like that… it makes any moment a million times better.” She wets her lips, and Finn is done.

Finn loves music and he’s very interested in lyrics, he always reads the sleeve of the records thoroughly. Maybe he’s not a big thinker like Archie, but he takes lyrics seriously. But mostly he doesn’t get it, even when he thinks it’s pretty, or poignant, even heart-wrenching. Some of the stuff they sing about, he can’t really relate too. Only, these days he’s learning a lot of new emotions, such as grief, loneliness, longing. Some songs suddenly come with a whole other dimension of realness for him, like that night his nan died, and Rae was there, and ‘Talk Tonight’ started playing in his head, and he remembers thinking – that song is about this, right here, about us this night.

 

So when she’s closing her eyes like that, and tendrils of hair float around her as the wind picks up and she’s hugging herself, that one McCartney line comes to him, one he always thought was so poncy, but what it says is exactly what he’s feeling right now. These days, when she’s around, inside of him, everything’s a’flutter.

 

“You’re funny,” she suddenly says, after a long stretch of silence. “How come I never knew you could be funny, broody boy?”

 

Is his face red? Feels red. “Dunno.” He shrugs.

 

“Guess you never said much. ‘Course, now I can’t get you to shut up.” She laughs. They smile at each other again, then both look away.

 

“Gotta keep up with ya, don’t I?” he mumbles.

 

“Oh, you little shit.” More smiles, more sudden shyness, and after a bit she looks back at him, looking worried. “Do I really bang on so much? Like, is it, like, annoying or somethin’?”

 

“Nah, told ya,” he says. “We all really love it.” 

 

She looks away, smiling. “Lucky.”

 

Finn releases a shaky breath and closes his own eyes to feel the breeze, but his heart is pounding so hard, he’s surprised that he’s not rattling the building under them. Seems that all this time he was in a battle with himself not to love her, and he lost.

 

+++

 

The others find them before long, and even though they haven't said much in twenty minutes, Finn isn't ready to share his time with her yet. If she were his girlfriend, the thought pops up unbidden in his head, they wouldn't have interrupted them. Everyone would know they were having "alone time". 

He’s restless and anxious for the rest of the day, sitting quietly off to the side and smoking while the others horse around. There’s a tremor in his fingers and goosebumps on his arms every time he hears Rae’s voice. He can’t wait for this day to end, so he can go home, put some music on, lie on his back and stare at the ceiling. Try to think straight.

 

As they all pack up and head back to the cars, Finn hangs back and walks alone, watching them. His head is full to bursting. Again he marvels at the easy way in which Archie and Rae communicate, walking with their arms looped, Rae leaning into him when she laughs and they stumble and right themselves, and everything is so casual and simple. He wants that with her, and maybe they're getting there, but after the roof it's clear to him he wants more with her, more... stuff. 

 

All the stuff.

 

He replays the conversation on the roof, wants to anchor it in his mind forever. How the tar felt under him, the smells of the river coming on the breeze, every word she'd said, every smile and blush, every inch of skin. If she were his girlfriend he could have kissed her on that roof, in that perfect moment.

 

Finn shakes his head, looks for a fag in his pocket but he's empty. He really needs to put a stop to all this _girlfriend_ bullshit. Doesn't even know where that shit comes from. He never even had a girlfriend. All the girls he's dated, none of them were really serious. Basically it was about getting off with a fit bird, and he never dated anyone for very long. 

 

Longest time he was with someone was Stacey Stringfellow - they went out for three and a half weeks. And with her, it was still all about just having fun and getting laid. He soon found out she was one of the most boring girls he'd ever met - she had nothing interesting to say, no proper hobbies other than shopping or whatever girls like her did. Oh, and the music she liked was like monkey vomit. So they had absolutely nothing to talk about and soon every conversation went along the lines of: _Wanna come to mine? - Are your parents at home? - Yeah. - Can't, I’m supposed to meet Chop_. She knew what this was about, he was sure; he saw no point in hanging out with her if there wasn't a chance of getting sex. The one time he took her to the pub to meet his mates, she’d sat there on that bench as if she was afraid to catch something. She didn't have much to say, didn't even smile at Izzy when the girl, bless her good heart, tried to include her. And really, if you can't be civil to Izzy then there's something seriously off with ya, was his thinking. 

 

He broke it off with her the next day and there was no drama. She didn't fit in with the gang and that was fine, ‘cause she didn't fit with his life and it wasn't at all important that she would. She was just a girl, a good looking girl, nice for snogging, and as far as he could tell, all girls were pretty much just versions of this model. 

 

And now here he was, having found out that there are other types, a proper girl, someone he had a connection with that went beyond anything he’s ever experienced. A girl that could make him shiver, make his insides ache with the need to be around her, and all that by doing nothing, wanting nothing from him.

 

+++

 

He doesn’t even know himself like this. He’s used to being in complete control in the girl department. Knows what he wants and then he just... gets it. But what is he doing now? The more he puts himself in Rae’s space, the further out of his reach she seems to be, and she’s making him a bit miserable and a bit ecstatic and a bit jealous and just all round fucking mental. And she has no idea she’s doing it.

 

He covets every second he gets to spend with her alone, just them without the rest of the gang butting in. It’s a bit of a torture. He’s deliberately putting himself in a situation that keeps him in a state of constant arousal. Complete sensory overload, and he's never totally relaxed around her, even when they're just sitting and listening to music, or lying in the sun. He knows he's the one prolonging this situation, by not trying anything, not taking it to the next level. Any other girl, he would have had her knickers on his bedroom floor by now, but with Rae, he can't do it. He's just, well, scared shitless. Rae scares him, and all these intense feelings are scary, so he's holding on to his control with everything he’s got. 

 

And she don't make it easy neither. The more comfortable she is around him, the better “mates” they are, the more she lets loose. The things she says catch Finn by surprise. Like that one time they were in the record shop and ’A Girl Like You‘ came on, and Rae moaned in a way that went straight to his crotch, "Oh, God, I love this song, I want to marry this song and have its babies!" Or that one time they were in the pub and he put “Oceans” on the Jukebox. Approaching their table, he knew he'd done good by the look of ecstasy on her face, and thank God he was already sitting when she drawled, "Fuuuuuck, I just wanna lick Eddie Vedder's voice all over..."

 

Sometimes he wonders if she does that on propose, to drive him crazy, but it's a bit of wishful thinking and he knows it. Him and Rae, they're stuck deep in the friends zone. It just doesn't cross her mind that it's killing him to listen to her perving like that. She doesn't care that he's the fittest lad in college, or Lincolnshire, or all of the United Kingdom. She just wants to drool over Damon Albarn, or David Bowie, or bloody Jarvis Cocker, who's not even hot.

 

+++

 

At some point he thinks that he’s the only one at the rave not high as a kite. He didn’t take the pill, barely drank alcohol. He wants to stay sharp because he wants to drive him and Rae home so he can have the feeling again, of living between her thighs and in the cage of her arms. He’ll drive them home and tuck her in and take care of her, so that in the morning she won’t feel sick, and they can have breakfast and talk. Really talk. About what’s important, for once.

 

He stays sober so that he won’t miss a single moment of this girl dancing, looking freer and happier than he’s ever seen her. Moving her body, reflecting the light, bursting like a supernova under his loving gaze.

 

He stays sober so that he can take care of them all, make sure they’re all safe and happy, that they can dance and jump and yell and shine, and not worry about unwanted elements, like fucking Kendo, or anyone who might step over the line.

 

He can feel the music pounding inside him, building up from the soles of his shoes all the way up his body until it joins with the pounding of his heart. His eyes are filled with colours, with pretty shapes and sparkly glitter. He doesn’t need to get fucked up to be the highest he’s been in a long time.

 

Because she came to him when she could have gone anywhere, and she’s coming home with him, and he’ll put on “No More Lonely Nights” and he’ll tell her, he’ll tell her everything.

 

Music and lights pour into him like molten lava at the thought and suddenly he can’t wait. He needs to tell her now.

 

+++

 

He's in his room, on the floor, nauseous and thirsty, his body feels broken and crushed like glass. Or could be that's his heart. He'd put some music on when he crawled back from the fucking debrief from hell. Morrissey, the music of pain and loneliness. Last night he dreamt that somebody loved him, but it was just another false alarm. The record has long since finished playing and he hasn't moved. Can't move. Too busy counting all the ways in which he is a stupid git.

 

He thought all the past few weeks, all the laughing together and in-jokes, all that bloody writing on thighs, meant they were getting somewhere. Getting closer, moving away from just being mates and on to something much more satisfying. If she was still into Archie this whole time, why come over and listen to his records? Why smile at him like she does, why let him put his leg over hers when they were lying on the grass, why tease him about manga porn on the roof? Why would she let him trace words on her jeans, one time actually on her skin, why pick that up herself, if not for the same reason he's done it - to touch her just a little, to keep from going mental around her?

 

But, he reminds himself, it's fine, no big deal AT. ALL. Because he's not obsessing about her and now that he knows who she really wants is bloody Archie, and boy was Finn wrong about him, then he'll back off and it's juuuusssstttt fiiiiiinnnne.

 

"Fuck, fuck!" Finn moves shaky fingers through his hair. He needs a solution, there must be something, he can't be feeling like this, he's been handling too much stuff lately as is. An image appears in the eye of his mind, well, that image never really went anywhere since the moment it unfolded in front of his bewildered eyes - Rae and Archie pulling each other into a crazy, sweaty kiss, like they can't help themselves, they want to touch each other so much. This rerun comes built-in with a gut wrenching sickening feeling. Every time. He tries to breathe and not care, or maybe just not care so bloody much. Why can't he be okay with this, with them? He cares about them both, so shouldn’t he be, like, cheering them on?  _Archer, ol' pal, was sure you were gay as fuck, glad to see it were just a matter of finding the right bird to give you a right seeing to._

 

He knows that's what’s right, that's what his nan would approve of. Be nice to your friends, accept and respect a girl's choice. But a part of Finn is snarling inside, scratching at the walls and wants out. _Bollocks to that_ , he wants to yell. He's not that big of a person, he's a petty fucker and he doesn't understand why this is happening to him. They flash in his mind again, the smiles, the sweat, the lips, the way she held Archie’s face, looking so free and sexy and not at all like someone who doesn't know what she wants. Once again, the universe is proving that there's no point in trying so hard to be the good guy. Makes no difference if you give her space and take the time to be her mate and learn all you can about her. Might as well be a bad guy, stand her up and use her. Might as well be thinking ugly things about your mates and snogging one girl out of spite for another. _What the fuck does it even matter, Nan, life will piss all over ya and it's all random and nothing matters anyway._

 

And he fucked up with Chloe; he knows it's very bad. If he wasn't such a small, jealous fuck, he wouldn’t’ve done that with her. To her. 'Course, at the time he thought he was doing it to Rae. I only have to snap my fingers and I can have any girl in Stamford, so what do you say to that, Rachel bloody Earl? What a complete arsehole. And he had to have a painful talk with Chloe, let her know it wouldn’t be happening, it'd been a mistake. He hopes to Christ she took it well for real, that she wasn’t just saying so. Prays she feels the same about him and that whole night. Doesn't want to hurt her.

 

Finn takes a deep breath when the nausea rises, trying to postpone the inevitable moment when he has to run to the toilet. "Christ," he moans, rubbing at his eyes and curls on his side, bringing his knees to his chest. _Down on the floor, got another look at hell. See, somebody pushed me, I just pretended that I fell,_ his mind spits up the appropriate lyrics.

 

A hopeful thought emerges - maybe he's so miserable because he’s hung-over, maybe the drinking he did last night after the Rae and Archie Show has gotten to him, and that’s all this is, and tomorrow he'll be fine and won’t care so much who his friends are getting off with. Yeah, that’s probably it. Tomorrow he’ll stop caring.

 

Except that's bollocks and the biggest lie he's ever told, because he wants her, he wants her so bloody much, just her, he doesn't want all the girls in Stamford, just Rae. Rae, who hugged him on the scooter and made his entire body feel like it was on fire, Rae who makes him a useless bastard every time she's near and every time she's not around, Rae who changed everything and he doesn't know how she did that and he didn't know to watch out for it because it came on so gradually, he was in too deep before he realized the tide was strong and he was already miles from shore.

 

He hides his face in the crook of his arm and wishes it’d stayed the way it were two months ago, wishes she never came along, and nothing had changed, and he was still just a fit lad walking through life without a care, not even knowing or caring that there was a Rae Earl in the world. ”Wish I never met you.” he moans in the quietest of voices.

 

Except he doesn't, he doesn't mean it, he takes it back, oh God, he takes it back. 

 

+++ 

 

Nothing much has changed hours later, when the shrill sound of the telephone drags Finn out of his state of misery and into the world of Chop.

 

“Wha’you want?” Finn grumbles into the phone, already regretting ever picking it up.

 

“It’s Raemundo’s mum’s party, you twat, let’s go.”

 

Holy fuck, he forgot about the bloody party. Well, he’s in no state to handle any activity where Rae, Archie and Chloe are all huddled around the same table as him. “I’m not going.”

 

“The fuck you say! You’re going, dickhead, everyone’s going –“

 

“I feel like dog shite, mate, leave off.”

 

But Chop isn’t having it. “Everyone fucking does! So go get cleaned up all nice and fresh, we’re picking you up in ten minutes.”

 

“No, don’t come pick me up, Chop. Don’t –“, but the line is dead and Finn puts the phone down and goes back to crawling on the carpet.

 

Feels like he’s barely shut his eyes before the door bursts open and there’s a pissed off Chop standing above him.

 

“Are you having a laugh? I said get ready! Everyone’s waiting in the car!”

 

“I said I’m not going so just fuck off.”

 

“What’s the matter with ya? She invited us. Rae will be expecting us. We’re her mates!”

 

“Fuck that.” He says, and it sounds so bitter and full of malice, that Chop stares at him in shock, and Finn himself is taken aback. “I feel like shit, mate, I’m hung-over all to hell.” He back peddles.

 

Chop shakes his head and reaches down, forcefully lifts Finn up. “Well, fuck, who isn’t, right? You should see Archie and Chloe in the back seat, the state of them two.” None of Finn’s protests help as he is marched into the bathroom by an almost hysterical Chop. “And I got a massive headache, and nobody knows where the FUCK Izzy is, and I’m not being funny, yeah, but I am sick and tired of carrying the life of this entire gang on me shoulders. So go make yourself half decent and get the fuck! in! the car!”

 

Finn gets in the car.

 

+++

 

The truth always somehow slips out around Rae. The words escape before his brain has a chance to catch them. Words like “I were gutted you couldn’t come”, or “I’m not going if Rae’s not going either”.

 

And yet Finn can’t bring himself to say it to her. Actually say it. The thought of it is so big, it sits in his heart like a stone. What if he says it, and she doesn’t want it? And in the dead of night when his thoughts are the darkest, there’s a voice wondering, what if she does want it just as much; wouldn’t that make her just like every other girl? Wouldn’t that make her less _Rae_? Right now she is as remote and untouchable to him as a mirage to a man dying in the desert. Always at the tip of his fingers, always out of reach. A beautiful illusion he shouldn’t be touching, or he’ll break the spell.

 

And yet it spills out. It’s like the universe wants this truth to be set free. Why else would Chloe say “You look like a couple?” And if Chloe sees it, then surely Rae does as well, doesn’t she? She must know about him, he thinks feverishly in the dead of night. She must.

 

But he can see now that she doesn’t. He hears it clearly in her voice, sees it in her eyes when she looks at him, giving her confession. He just sits there, almost numb with shock. The moment feels big, he feels so small. He can’t believe she’s just stood there, just said all those things, in front of all these people. Where does she get the courage? He feels like such a pathetic coward. All this time he thought he was telling her, with eyes and touch and words, but he wasn't, wasn't he? The closest he ever came was writing “I want you” on her palm, like a small secret that he was giving her for safe-keeping inside her fist. But then he bottled it, couldn’t leave it at that.

 

He can’t look her in the eyes, and first chance he gets, he sneaks out. To get away, to be away. To buy some time to think, process. He’s a block away from the chip shop when his head gets clear enough so that all her other words come back to him, wash over him in a rush, and he feels lightheaded and nauseous, he has to find a bench and sit a minute.

 

Rae is sick, he tells himself, trying to wrap his head around it. Rae is not well. Rae is ill. She’s sad. She’s in a bad way. She hurts herself burns herself cuts herself cut too deep her life is pain and she inflicts more pain and she almost died and he almost never even knew her _oh fuck oh Christ I didn’t know how could I not know all those times she’s been sad on the roof I saw her on the roof she looked like she’s about to oh fuck, what do I do how do I save her what do I do what do I do what do I do_

 

She’s coming up the street.

 

+++

 

He tries to tell her. He tries harder than he’s ever tried. The words don’t come, and he goes by instinct and pulls her to him, flush against him in her silky dress. So much skin in his arms that he trembles. He draws it on her back, heart pounding, eyes shut. It feels like jumping off a cliff.

 

+++

 

For years after, he remembers kissing her for the first time in vivid detail. The musty smells, the pain in his leg, the feel of her fingers on his bare skin, patching his wounds, and how bloody fantastic he thought that was. Remembers her voice, going on and on, slight trepidation in her eyes, but he can't remember what she was talking about because he was very focused on the feelings spreading through his body at Rae's proximity, the thrill of being alone, being this close. The negative space between them shrinking, pulling him in. 

 

He was supposed to take it slow with her. He made a promise to himself out there by the chippy that night, that he wouldn’t waste her, waste this thing between them, on a two-week raunchy adventure that would end with them not being able to look each other in the eye. Rae is not like other girls he's been with, and he doesn't want her to ever be like them. He's also newly aware of an ocean of dark waters hiding under her cheery facade, hiding uncharted depths of feelings he has no clue how to navigate. _Scary monsters, super freaks._ He doesn't want to stir the waters, doesn't ever want to be the cause of Rae retreating deeper into this pain. He makes it his mission to make this girl lighter, happier, with whatever limited resources he has. He may not have a lot to give, but what he's got, he wants to give to Rae.

 

Standing in front of her that night, her looking so lovely, so exposed and yet powerful in front of him, his nan's words float in his mind. "Just because you get something, doesn't mean you deserve it". 

 

He wants to deserve her, deserve all these crazy feelings running up and down him, pooling in his chest and in his groin. So he holds himself back with everything he's got, not to pounce on her and kiss her all over, every exposed bit of skin, all that damn cleavage, dear God. He swallows the saliva filling his mouth, and makes a sheepish joke, and asks her if she would like him to escort her back to the party.

 

And he holds on so well after that, for days. During the most perfect first date in history, he doesn't kiss her, doesn't grope her. Doesn't even step behind her to "show" her how to bowl. Which is lucky, because she wipes his arse all over the lanes and crows and sings _We Are the Champions_ and that night Finn lies in bed, hands under the covers, wanking like a sad idiot to the memory of his fingers touching hers.

 

He's doing so well keeping his hands to himself, really, he is, even when she's so fucking funny, even when her lips look so pink and lush, even when she puts her hands on her hips, shocked at something he says about some bass player in some band, and her t-shirt stretches across her boobs. Finn is the model of abstinence. He should be in the bloody Guinness book. He should get a medal of some kind. 

 

But when they're in the boys' locker room and she's sitting right there, and her leg is touching his, and her fingers, and his skin, and she stood on the sidelines and attempted to cheer him on... well, it's a losing battle and he knows it. If he doesn't kiss her he will die of thirst, or hunger, or terminal horn. He has to get his hands on Rae, he just has to. So again, he jumps off a cliff.

 

He smacks his lips against hers; that shuts her up. Then he can make it softer, make it more precise... oh, fuck... just... make it happen. Finally. Feels like he's been waiting for this kiss for fucking ever. At-Knebworth-without-her-Finn is ecstatic. Didn't-kiss-her-on-the-roof-Finn does a bloody dance of joy. Standing-outside-the-chippy-ogling-her-cleavage-in-a-silky-dress-Finn is doing an appreciative slow clap. FINALLY, mate, fucking FINALLY.

 

So how could she doubt that he wants this?

 

Feel sorry for her? If anyone needs sympathy it's his pathetic arse. If she only knew how much he's gasping for her, how much she's been on his mind since he's met her... maybe he should tell her but the idea fills him with dread, so he does the easier thing, and the more pleasurable thing, and kisses her again. This time it's slow, and soft, it takes forever, she holds on to him, she moves against him, oh God, _Rae, you make me crazy_. She breathes and gasps, Finn pushes in, he can't help it. He kisses deeper, cradles her head and tastes her mouth in long slow motions, and when Rae makes a sound, half approving, half begging, into his mouth, his entire body reacts and he is shocked to hear himself echo her sound back at her. He can't know it in that moment but he'll find out later, that in every kiss and caress and loving act they make from this point on, he moans when she moans.

 

+++

 

What if he says it, and she doesn’t want it? What if she does want it just as much; wouldn’t that make her just like any other girl? What if she does want it, and she lets him be with her, hold her hand, kiss her, touch her hair, go on dates, make her laugh, gasp, and he’ll sink deeper and deeper until he’s drowning in Rae, and then she’ll decide that’s not what she wants at all? What if he’s waiting in corners, leaving phone messages, asking around, trying, trying so hard to hold on to something he can feel slipping away from him, what if it all ends with him standing there, holding his jacket, watching her retreating back?

 

But he didn’t think of those things back then. All he saw was Rae. All he felt was the flutter.

 

+++

 

There comes a time when you just need to be a grownup. That’s what he’s thinking, moodily, into his beer. There comes a time where you have to look at your life and say - no more of this. Can’t be drifting like this, letting people and circumstances dictate where you’re going. You have to grow the fuck up. Take control of your life.

 

That’s what he’s doing right now. He tells himself that this decision was about doing the right thing, the mature thing, starting his responsible, grown-up life. Things in Stamford were stupid. Everything was shit. College was a fucking waste of time. He looked at himself and didn’t like what he’d become. Gone was the happy-go-lucky boy, enjoying life and girls and drinks and smokes, secure in the knowledge that everyone fucking adores him. Everything in Stamford was pain. Dissatisfaction. Confusion.

 

But it’s okay, because he didn’t drift, he took a stand. Found a job, another situation, survived the terrible moment of leaving his dad behind. He’s starting a whole new life and won’t think about people who only let him down and make him hurt anymore.

 

And in the first few days he feels fine, even good. There’s so much to do, so much going on. Moving in, fixing the room, learning how to get along with his uncle. First day on the job, meeting dozens of new people, trying to remember some of their names. He isn’t Finn Nelson anymore. He’s building a new Finn, someone else entirely. Someone friendlier. Someone not so god damned sad all the time. Finn Nelson - the No Heartbreak edition.

 

It doesn’t last very long though. After a week, when his body starts to get used to the grueling physical work and being bone-tired all the time, when he stops falling helplessly into bed each night, knackered beyond belief, that’s when the dreams start.

 

In his dreams she’s smiling and happy, she’s a ray of sunshine on the back of his scooter, she’s small touches and kisses, kisses, kisses. He dreams sitting on a beach, by a river, under a tree, in a college classroom, on the roof of a derelict building, and holding her hand, and feeling her finger write questions on his skin. _I’m getting over you,_ he tells her while they’re lying side by side on the rug in her room. Good, Rae says. _I was over you weeks ago_.

 

 _I’m not over you_ , he tells her in the caravan, flickering lights colour her face. She shrugs. She doesn't care. She cares so much. She gives him a hug, like a present, like an amazing grace, she says the right words and saves him from losing it, she knows about death and loss and what it feels like to swim against the waves of pain. She hugs him, he doesn't need to ask. She fucks him, rides him, lets him lick her in all the places he's obsessed with, she makes him come and goes away and leaves him alone. She lies in his arms, naked and gorgeous and loves him. He kisses her on the top of an ancient building and it's the perfect moment and he gives her the words. _I wanna take you home. I wanna give you children. You could be my girlfriend, yeah yeah yeah yeah… yeah…_

 

 _ _Yeah.__

 

So nowadays he's working pretty fucking hard at pushing sleep time further and further away. Trying to tire himself all day, drinks with the fellows all night. When they pack it in, he stays behind, he drinks alone like a loser. Well, if he was trying to grow up he's succeeded. He went straight from stupid teenager to a fucked up old alcoholic. When the bartender asks if he wants another he says no, lights a cigarette instead. It's a race to see what will kill him first. The liver, the cancer, the heartache.

 

There's a woman sitting two seats away. There's always some woman two seats away. She looks at him and smiles. Can't she tell he's a messed up fuck up, playing at being an adult?

 

"Hi there," she smiles. Her accent is Scottish and her mouth is ruby red with lipstick. It stains the glass of red she's having, like a fantastic cliché. “Do ya mind if I drink with ya? I hate drinking alone."

 

Finn does like to drink alone. He likes to be alone with his thoughts before he drowns them. But this is simple. So he makes a non-committal head jerk, and the woman slides into the stool next to his. She's quite pretty and there's something about her, juicy and ripe, that appeals to him. He lets her do all the talking and all the decisions about the night and where it's going, and she's quite happy to lead the conversation, and then lead him stumbling up the narrow stairway to her small apartment, not two blocks away.

 

She takes off his jacket and her hands move across his shoulders and down his back, until they are standing close together and he can feel her full breasts press against him. Under the smell of too much beer, her scent is sweet when she leans towards him, pressing a warm, open mouth to his neck. It's been a while for him. But he doesn't make a move, doesn't look her in the eyes. It’s good to be drunk; you can get away with all sorts of things.

 

She sighs. 

 

Sitting them both on her narrow bed, she moves her fingers through his hair. Her fingernails are blunt and dark red. Sexy. "Are you not up for this, sad boy?" she asks. Not angry, not annoyed with him. Thank you, thank you, random Scottish girl, for being so kind to a broken man.

 

"I'm - " he starts. I'm what? What am I? I _am_ sad, he wants to say. Sad and alone and tired. Empty. Homesick, heartsick, sorry I came here with you. Sorry I lead you on, made you believe I could do something with you. You are beautiful and sexy and really attractive and I'm pathetic and stupid because I want you but I want her most of all. I want her. Still. Don't know why but I do. "I'm in love with someone." He says finally.

 

She looks at him in surprise, then amusement. "I don't care."

 

"I do."

 

Her red mouth stretches into a perfect smile. "Okay, then."

 

And just like that, she pulls away from him. Respecting his wishes, he supposes, but it's still surprisingly disappointing to lose the warmth of another body next to his. She slides to the edge of the bed, leaning against the wall, and pulls out a cigarette pack from the bedside table. She offers him one and he declines. He's not staying.

 

Her long fingers hold on to the fag, Finn watches her bringing it to her lips. "So... love, huh? Not going too well for ya, I see." she exhales towards the ceiling. "You've got 'broken heart' written all over ya, to be honest. But sometimes guys like that make the perfect one-night-stands, so I was trying my luck."

 

Her movements are short, erratic. She speaks about his heartache like it's something she watches on telly. "So, what was it? Cheating? Jealousy? The sex weren't any good?"

 

Finn feels a strange sensation, as if he has to defend their relationship. Such as it was. No cheating, some jealousy, no sex. Like, none at all.

 

"I... she didn't want me."

 

"Oh, so she’s gay? Only joking. Does she know you're still pining away for her?"

 

He shrugs. Does she? He used to think she did, that she was his mate no matter what. But he remembers the last time he saw her. A party in effin' Uffington. He shrugs again.

 

She stabs her cigarette in an ashtray, and slides back to his side. "Did you tell her?"

 

Effin' Uffington. "Tried. It isn't... isn't easy for me."

 

"You? Such a big talker? No!" she laughs, tossing her red hair back over her shoulder. "How about a letter, then?"

 

"Huh?"

 

"Write her a letter. Let it all go on paper. Don’t you have things you really want to tell her?”

 

Finn is quiet for a long time, then he mumbles, "I keep wanting to call. Tell her, I dunno. Beg. Every day I have to tell myself to let it go. She doesn't want me." There's a perverse pleasure in saying these horrible words out loud. Finn thinks maybe he does understand what makes someone take a knife to their flesh. "I want to call so bad, hear her voice at least. S’ like, ' _I know it's over, still I cling'_. Y'know?"

 

Her expression is of total confusion. Finn is stupidly shocked to realize that she _doesn't_ know. "Like the song?"

 

"Don't know it. Look, how old are ya anyway, early 20s?”

 

“Wha? No, I’m…” he clears his throat at the awkwardness that’s about to ensue. She’ll probably lose it when she realizes how young he is. “I’m a… eighteen.”

 

Her eyes go big and she gets off the bed. “Oh, you are shitting me.”

 

“Sorry.”

 

She waves it away. “No harm done, I suppose. But… eighteen? The way you were sitting there, scowling at your pint, like you’re carrying the world on your shoulders. And you talk about this girl like… Jesus, how old is she, anyway?”

 

He’s really feeling the alcohol now, it’s making his stomach turn. So now this total stranger is going to tell him again how at his age, he can’t really know what he knows, can’t feel what he feels. Even Rae herself kept asking, doubting him. As if he needs to have a proper reason to love her, when the truth is he just does, and that’s it.

 

“Look,” her voice turns soft and sympathetic, and she sits down again and puts her hand on his thigh. “That girl… she’s not worth your heartbreak.”

 

And there it is. The bile rises in his throat. He wants to shout at her, _Forgive me, Ms. Scottish No-One from Nowhere, but you're wrong. Rae is worth this heartache, she's worth everything. Less than two months with her is still fucking worth it._ But he doesn’t say any of that, and Scottish takes that as a sign that her words are making an impact.

 

“I know it doesn't feel like it right now, but a time will come where you won't love her. You just won’t. It won't hurt like now.”

 

“Doubt it,” is all he can say.

 

“Trust me. You’ll realize she’s just a person, just like the rest of us, but you’ve made her up to be some kind of goddess on a pedestal.” She pats his leg. Finn stares at her perfect dark fingernails. He doesn’t find them attractive anymore. “Sex does that sometimes. You’re in love with a fantasy, dear. When you realize that, it’ll stop hurting. And one day you'll be in love with someone else.”

 

But he doesn't want to be in love with someone else. That thought is as scary as the notion of forgetting his nan.

 

He stands up. “I have to go now.”

 

“Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset ya. Believe it or not, I believe in love.” She smiles at him. “I hope it turns out all right for you two.”

 

“Thanks, yeah,” Finn picks up his jacket, and she walks him the three steps to the door.

 

“Hey –“ She starts to call after him when he’s in the hall. They look at each other, both realizing at the same time that they don’t know each other’s names. She sighs and smiles. “Write her a letter.”

 

Finn looks down at his shoes, back at her. “I did already.”

 

+++

 

Phone calls come in the middle of the night. Some light breathing and a whole lot of silence. First time this happens, his uncle picks up the phone, and tells the person to go bother someone else at eleven at night. Finn thinks nothing of it. Second time, Finn greets the phone call with cautious suspicion. Who would call them so late and not say a word? When it happens the third time, Finn runs to the phone before his uncle can reach it. "Hello?" he says, heart pounding, hearing how loaded with pathetic hope that one word is. There's no reply, no sound comes from the other end of the line. Finn listens, hard. Then finally, a faint intake of breath. Could very well be a silent sob. 

 

He has to bite down on his lower lip, his fist holding the receiver so tight the plastic gives a crackling protest, just so he doesn’t ask, "Is it you?"

The line goes dead. 

 

He didn't ask.

 

He doesn't know for sure, couldn't know, but he can't sleep that night, lies awake and motionless, tense and heart-sick with worry. He knows what this could mean. She's in trouble. In pain. Rae's pain isn't like his, it doesn't come with broody silence and alcohol. Rae's pain comes with the edge of a knife. 

 

His stomach turns, he tries not to imagine her lying on the floor, bleeding. Trying not to see her thighs sliced open, her wrists, not to think about the stain on the carpet in her room, that you can't really see anymore but he knows it's there because she'd always walked around it and at some point he'd started doing it as well. He shuts his eyes and prays for those thoughts to go away. 

 

But what if she is really losing it, right now, right this very second? If she's called him, it means she needs him. What if she's ending it all, right now while he's lying here like a useless wanker, because he wasn't there for her?

"Fuck it. Fuck her." He says this lie into the darkness, his voice gruff. She's not his problem anymore. It's not his job to save her. Let her new boyfriend, let her friends from bloody Uffington drive for three hours in the middle of the night on a slight suspicion that she might be sad and shit.

 

He doesn't sleep at all that night, but he's strong enough not to call her the following day, and night, and day. After that, he does call Archie. 

 

Archie sounds hurried and scared. Huffing, he says the exact words that Finn had been dreading to hear. "I'm just on my way out, mate. Rae's in hospital, I've got to go."

 

"Wait!" He almost screams, and everything halts. "What... is she -"

 

"Oh, fuck, no, sorry, mate, she's fine. She's just fine, it's not her, it's her mum, something bad with the baby. Didn't mean to make you worry. Sorry 'bout that. But I've got to go."

 

Finn sits on the stairs next to the kitchen, in this house he'll never feel at home in, and hyperventilates with relief for a few minutes. _Okay_ , he tells himself. _You can let go now. She’s fine and she has support. You’ve done all you should and more. You may go back to your life now._ But he’s already pulling a jacket on and looking for the car keys.

 

+++

 

This is how he knows he loves her for real. This is how he knows she’s not just a fantasy he’s built up in his mind because she didn’t want him, because she wasn’t available, because she’d made him work so hard to get her.

 

Because she’s sitting on that plastic hospital chair, her face is puffy and red from tears, her hair is hanging lifeless around her worried face. No makeup, none of that stuff she puts on her eyes sometimes to make them even bigger and more pronounced, she doesn’t look pink and put together the way she had that time, so long ago, when he went to pass a message from Archie. She’s not even in that cool leather jacket, and he loves how she looks in that. And yet his heart is about to leap out of his chest when he first sees her. He stops in his track and gulps air. Every bit of anger he had in him, has vanished. The pain of the rejection, the intense lonely feeling he’s practically lived on while away, is gone in the space of the time it takes him to close the distance to where Rae is sitting. It’s like, all his big drama has lost all consequence, when faced with the reality of Rae’s drama, her tears, the very fact of her solid existence under his drawing finger.

 

Rae is real. She’s not a figment of his horny imagination. His love for her is as real and solid as a row of plastic hospital chairs.

 

When she raises her teary eyes to him, a line is drawn through all the bad stuff between them and they are mates again, they are them again, just like before all the bullshit. The relief that comes with that feeling is overwhelming, and the urge to hug her to him is overwhelming, but Finn resists it bravely. He doesn’t know the dynamics between them now, and he waits for her, always waits for her, to let him know.

 

It’s hard to equate this teary-eyed girl sitting here, warming her hands with a styrofoam tea cup, with the Rae he remembers from the early days. The cool-as-fuck girl whose presence always made him say the wrong thing. She looks so small and sad, so exposed and raw. Finn thinks that Rae’s never seen herself as someone worthy. He remembers growing up like that, for years, sure that he’s personally to blame for every bad thing that has happened. As if he’s not a person worth anyone’s time, worth staying for, fighting for. The thought comes to him, that if he didn’t have his nan and his dad drilling into him night and day how much they love him, would never leave him, how they think he is the most wonderful boy in the world, he’d still be walking around thinking that he doesn’t deserve to be happy. And then, when things like Rae happened to him, he wouldn’t have been able to go on.

 

So everyone has some shit going on in their heads, some voice telling them the world will be missing nothing if they were gone. But he’s stronger than that voice, and some of that strength, he learned from this sad girl by his side. He has to tell her about herself, so she knows, so she remembers, that she is so much bigger and stronger than this moment. It’s not as hard to say as he might’ve imagined, and the look of soft gratitude on her face is worth all of it and more.

 

He stays for a long while, sits in silence with her. Brings tea and coffee when it’s needed. Glances her way from time to time, just to take in her face. Sometimes, she is glancing back. They blush and turn their heads.

 

A nurse comes to tell her she can see her sister if she wants. They walk the halls together, mostly silent, but their bodies are almost touching all the way. At the entrance to the room Rae stops abruptly.

 

“What, Rae?”

 

She wrings her hands, starts scratching, then immediately stops. “Okay, but what if I fuck this up?”

 

“’Course you won’t.”

 

She lifts her eyes to him, biting on her lip. “Do you really think I can do this?”

 

A familiar warmth spreads inside him at the idea of her caring what he thinks about her, can feel his face heating. “No point asking me,“ he mumbles towards his shoes. “I’m biased. I’m your biggest fan.”

 

When he lifts his eyes, she is looking at him intensely, full of meaning he can’t decipher, as usual. “Thank you for coming.” she practically whispers. “I don't know how you knew... Did Archie call you?”

 

For a long moment, he doesn’t know what to say. But this is Rae. The truth always comes out. “ _You_ called me.” he says.

 

Rae seemed shocked, then mortified at the thought that he knew it was her calling. He wishes they had the time, that this was the right place, to talk about it, what it meant to him - the good and the bad. Rae’s eyes are welling up with fresh tears, and she covers her face.

 

“Oh, God. Finn, I’m so sorry...”

 

“What for?”

 

She shakes her head, face still buried in her hand. “The way I treated ya, all of that. It weren’t you, you have to know, I never stopped -”

 

“Ms. Earl?” says the nurse with the worst timing in history. She must have realized eventually that they haven’t followed her inside.

 

“Yeah?” Rae’s wiping tears and pulling herself together.

 

“This way?” the nurse points, eyebrows raised.

 

She doesn’t even look at him as she follows the woman into the ward, to see her new sister, to start a new chapter of her life. Finn knows this is about so much more than his teenage heartbreak, but still inside him everything is screaming after her _No! Don't go! Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me..._

 

+++

 

Whatever it was that she was going to tell him in the hospital, she doesn’t want to tell him anymore. In fact, when he finally sees her a couple of days later, she doesn’t even want to talk.

 

He guesses it shouldn’t be such a surprise, considering where they were just days before - broken up, not talking, him hiding out in a different city. It’s not like he didn’t know that their time in the hospital didn’t change their situation. It’s not like he didn’t know, in his head, that they’re still broken up and she’s still not expressed any interest in him beyond friendship. In his head, he knows. But the rest of him is lying on the bed in his old room at his dad’s, awake, feeling so fucking much already. Sure, she never had a problem being his mate. So that doesn’t mean anything. But where was her boyfriend, huh? He hadn’t even shown up; Finn has. _Maybe she’s not with that wanker any more._ Maybe. But that doesn’t mean she wants you back. _I know that. But we had a moment, didn’t we? We had so many moments!_ But maybe that’s just you, imagining things that aren’t there.

 

And she’s vulnerable right now, he wouldn’t want to take advantage, and all those things are true and he knows them, for fuck’s sake, but when he walks into the pub and sees her, it all vanishes. He suddenly wants to talk, about everything. Part of it is that he missed talking to her, and part of it is just hope, that if they’d talked, if he made the effort, and they could get to the bottom of this, maybe she’ll share with him some small part of her life again.

 

But no, she’s not up for it. Finn’s heart sinks, the new hope that started raising its head crushed again under Rae Earl’s heel. But then, before he even gets a chance to mope, he’s in her bedroom.

 

There he is, sitting on Rae Earl’s bed again, and even though the room has changed, and they have changed, the flutter going up and down his body feels familiar and obvious. It’s her, sitting him down, putting a calculating hand on his thigh. She lifts her eyes to him slowly, and there’s a question in them.

 

It’s a crazy question, completely redundant. All Finn will ever answer is yes, always yes. “I think...” she whispers, “you should... if you want...” her hand crawls a few inches up his thigh. Yes, yes, yes. “That you should kiss me.”

 

She barely gets the words out when he’s all over her. He tries to be soft and gentle but there’s very little room left for self-control when all of him is filled with joy and randiness. He kisses her mouth, her wonderful mouth, and allows the taste of her to flood his entire body. He moves his fingers down her neck, listens to her breathe. She’s pushing him back, tearing her mouth away, Finn almost cries, but she’s just pulling at his clothes.

 

“Can we...” she breathes. “Okay, let’s, er... take off your... hmm...” she suddenly stops, shy and uncomfortable. But she takes a big gulp of air and nods, as if reaching a decision. “You make yourself comfortable. And I’ll be right back.”

 

And then she slinks into the bathroom. She’s there for a long time. Finn’s already stripped to about as much as he dares, and sits nervously on the bed.

 

He uses these moments to pull himself together. The fact that this is even happening is just too strange and unlikely, and Finn is completely aware of the fact that this could end any minute. Who knows how long before she pulls back into herself. Maybe she's doing it right now, shut in that little room. He's been here before, excited to touch her, only to be rejected. And more than that, it seems like he is always just on the cusp of something amazing with Rae, only to be shut out, left to run around and look for her and go crazy missing her, while she is nowhere to be found. Despite her encouraging words and actions before she went to the bathroom, she could change her mind just like that.

And yet. He’s sitting on the bed, smiling to the floor, his leg is bouncing with pent up energy. He's so happy he could vomit. Doesn’t even care if they have actual sex or not. So grateful and ecstatic that she’s let him kiss her again. That she talks to him. If they could put on music and just... spend an afternoon together, it would be beyond brilliant. He tries to take big, calming breaths, but it's hard to fill his lungs when he's still affected by her touch.

One thing's for sure. If she comes back and is still interested in him like that, he is not going to jump her again. No matter how excited he is, he's going to be gentle, and show her everything she means to him, everything he could give her if she'd let him.

He can feel a smile splitting his face, so wide it hurts his cheeks, his leg is bouncing like crazy and he’s thinking, _fuck it, whatever she wants_. If all she wants to do is make Papier Mache animals for the next four hours, he's there. It will probably be the best four hours he's had in months. 

And if she wants to talk, they'll talk. Even though he's crap at saying what he really means, and it'll probably be awkward and painful, he'll do it for her. He'll tell her every damn thing if she lets him back in.

The door opens, and Rae is standing there, only in her bathrobe. Finn gets to his feet. God. Oh, God. Yes. This is much better than talking. This he can do.  

+++

She does more than let him kiss her - she lets him look. She stands there, so brave and nervous, but determined, and when he's done kissing her, he gets to look at her. All of her. Every curve and every sweet expanse of skin. Dark nipples, smooth round stomach, long legs that are rooted into the carpet, trying to find balance. "Rae..." a whisper comes out of him, from some place deep inside, like a small prayer. His eyes bore into hers, noting the way she bites her lower lip through her smile. 

"Yeah?" she asks when he doesn't continue speaking.

He's not sure what he wanted to say. Maybe just her name, over and over again. Instead, he goes in to kiss her some more, slow and tender and painful, his lungs expanding when she smooths her hands up his arms, bringing their bodies closer to rub together, making them both gasp in union.

He's hard and frazzled, tiny tremors move through him with every sweep of Rae's tongue in his mouth. It's been so long since he felt these lips, so long, and now he just wants to stand there and kiss her for hours and hours, feel her mouth sucking on his, listen to the sounds she makes, familiar and thrilling. He touches the side of her face, to pull her closer, give her more, but she pulls away and whispers, "I'm standing here naked, and you're not. Is that fair?"

"What are you gonna do about it?" he teases, in the same low quiet murmur. Rae tilts her head, her fingers leave his hair to smooth down his chest. 

"Depends. Do you have issues with your body? 'Cause I can help you with that. I’ve done therapy."

"Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm an expert." 

It's hard to continue the teasing when her fingers start to move across his chest, her eyes following the downward movement, until her fingertips are gently touching the edge of his boxers, making the muscles in his abdomen tighten deliciously.

Finn is barely breathing, so aware of his hard-on against her body. "In that case, I do, I have tons of issues with... with my body -" For a second, she looks pensive, then suddenly she bends her head towards him, and her mouth close on his nipple. It's just a quick second, she licks him and quickly retreats, glancing at his face to gauge his reaction. 

“Is that okay? I really... I just wanted to do that.”

His voice comes out as a shaky rasp. “Okay, yeah... You do... whatever you want, Rae.” His eyes are drawn to her nipples, tight and inviting and allowed.

Rae laughs softly at his comment, “Oh, I’ve got some plans... You have no idea what I’m - “ but she is cut off, her words turn into a gasp, when he returns the favour, lowering his head to her breasts. He sucks one nipple into his mouth, while his hands are busy, trying to cup all that glorious, milky flesh.

“Oh, that feels really... Oh... Really good...” Rae squirms in his arms, until he slides his hands down her front and behind her back, filling his hands with her, bringing her closer to him. “I knew it would.” she says, so confidently, Finn has to kiss her mouth, right there. Their bodies are now flush against each other, with only his boxers in the way.

“I knew it, too,” he whispers into her lips, “but this is even better, I... You’re amazing, Rae, you are - Jesus...”

Lost for words, again, he feels like swearing. Even now, he’s talking bollocks instead of making her feel good.

She laughs. “If I were Jesus, you’d’ve been naked a long time ago.” her fingers slide into his waistband, but she can’t seem to make herself actually take them off. She just tugs at them slightly and whines, “Why are you still wearing these?”

She pouts at him. She is so fucking sexy. She doesn’t even know what she’s doing, when she makes that face and touches him like that. Finn doesn't know what his face is doing, but his mouth is saying, "Bed." and Rae's eyes widen and shine. "Yeah, bed." she says, enthusiastically. 

She rushes to slide under the covers, seems to struggle with the new position, fidgeting and rearranging her body, as if everything is different now that they’re horizontal. If this is all for his benefit, then she needn't worry, he's beyond lust for her. Nevertheless, he makes sure to keep his eyes on hers, not look anywhere except her expressive face. He lets his hands roam, though, freely. His breathing is short and erratic, his body aching to be inside her, he learns her curves, the places that make her squirm. Rae snuggles closer and closer to him, making tiny kittenish sounds every time he gets near the apex of her thighs. Her tiny girly sounds turn into annoyed grunts when he refuses to go where she wants him to, but he’s thinking there's so much more he hasn't touched yet. Eventually her head shoots up from the curve of his neck and she frowns and pants at him, "Are you gonna finger me at some point, or do you want me to die of horn-related spontaneous combustion?"

Finn groans through his laughter. If she's going to be this funny during sex, they're be in big trouble, because there's just no way he's going to last much longer. 

When he doesn’t, she looks so shocked. Her mind cannot compute this kind of reaction from a man, not even him, not even now, when they’re having actual sex. “It’s your fault,” he tells her jokingly when he is sitting, slightly embarrassed, on the bed with his back to her, getting rid of one condom and producing another. “You’re too bloody sexy for a simple lad like me to handle.”

She’s naked under a sheet on the bed, and that thought alone drives him crazy.

“Are you saying I should go look for some other bloke to take care of my womanly needs?” she rasps. For a girl with so little experience and such a low opinion of her own desirability, she sure does have all the moves.

She probably should go out and find someone else, someone better than him. Someone smarter, who will tell her what’s in his heart, someone who won’t lose control and come at the first touch of her hand on his cock. He turns to look at her, reaches over across the distance with his arm stretched palm up on the bed, offering himself to her. “Please don’t, though.” he mumbles.

Rae looks at him for a long moment, her eyes shining. She puts her hand in his and whispers, “Don’t be daft. I only now got you right where I want you.”

+++ 

  
He's so happy that he didn't sleep with that girl at the pub. That he didn't, with anyone while they were apart. He lies in the dark, his breathing laboured, his arms full of Rae, and thanks God and the Saints and the bloody fairies for that. _I'm in love with someone_ , he'd said. It was one of the most honest things he's ever said, ever done. 

 

His heart soars with joy. Rae’s back. She came back to him.

 

He holds her while she sleeps, feels how guarded she is with her body even now. Sheet wrapped tightly around her, covering everything from chest to toe. So much energy is spent on being constantly on guard... And yet her mouth is moist and soft, red raw from his kisses.

 

She’s not easy, his Rae. But it’ll get easier. He’s sure of it. If he manages to hold on to her, if he can just not lose her again, then it’ll be better and easier with each day. He has so much to learn about her still. So many traps to learn to avoid, but on the other hand, so much exquisite beauty to witness, so much happiness to share.

 

“Stop staring, you pervy git.” She grumbles all of a sudden, turns her body away with a bit of a wiggle, and mumbles in a mocking, funny voice, “It freaks me out.”

 

Finn’s cheeks hurt from smiling.

 

+++

 

In the last few minutes before waking, he dreams that Rae is gone. He turns in the bed and she's not there. He pulls the covers tight around himself with his empty arms. The bed is frozen, she took the warmth with her.  _Is it over?_ his dad asks from the corner of the room, where he is folding away duvets and blankets and arranges them in cardboard boxes. _Where's Rae?_ Finn's teeth chatter as he puts on clothes. _She left. Said it's over and she wants to leave before you woke up._ Gary Nelson pinches the corner of a blanket, folds it in half. This all looks vaguely familiar. Finn shakes his head. The frost is seeping into his chest. _But it's her house. That doesn't make any sense._ His dad shrugs and holds his hands up in surrender. _Don't shoot the messenger. She told me to tell you that now that you’ve had sex, no need to do any of the talking._ Finn tries the door but it’s locked. His breath comes in puffs of frozen air and it’s hard to breathe, but he still holds on to the frozen door knob, still tries again and again to twist it. _Look, she needed time to find herself. We have to accept that._ Gary puts a comforting hand on Finn’s shoulder. _It’ll be alright, Son. We’ll survive without her._ Finn’s twisting the knob, baring his teeth. _No we won’t._

 

When his eyes open it's with a start. The bed isn't cold and there's no one in the corner of the room, but his girl isn't there, either. Finn puts his clothes on hastily and speeds down the stairs, still buttoning his 501s. 

 

"Rae?" he whispers, as loudly as he dares. He thinks maybe one of the grownups have come back and he shouldn't be caught sneaking out of Rae's room with his jeans half undone. 

 

"In the kitchen!" comes the answer. Rae isn't trying to whisper at all. And she’s also not running from him. Finn holds on to the railing for a couple more seconds, and breathes deep. Not running. She's right here. 

 

She turns to him as he enters the kitchen, wearing her fluffy robe and a shiny smile. His heart is already speeding up. Bloody ridiculous, what she does to him. “Morning.” she chirps. “Want a cuppa?”

 

He nods, and Rae waits a beat before turning back to the counter. Should he have kissed her? Or said something nice? He kind of stands there, unsure, but then he just sits at the small table. The radio is on very low, and he can’t quite make out what song is playing, until he can hear Rae singing to herself in the softest of voices. _Girls who are boys who like boys like they’re girls..._ And her bum does the tiniest wiggle.

 

She’s happy. He made her happy. He swallows the lump in his throat and keeps looking at her, because it’s not enough. Never will be enough.

 

“There,” she puts the cup in front of him and the sweet smell of tea wafts up to him.

 

“Ta.” he smiles at her, and blows on the tea to cool it. He really does wants to kiss her good morning, but what if she doesn’t welcome it? Plus, he’s very aware of the fact that he hasn’t brushed his teeth yet.

 

She pulls a chair near him and sits with her own steaming mug, sends a shy smile his way, then laughs. “This is very strange. Like we’re playing house.”

 

He takes a long sip because he doesn’t know how to answer. After a few seconds, she just continues. “I guess... ‘cause things have changed.” She glances at him, looking for confirmation. Finn gives a tiny nod, even though he’s not sure things’ve changed that much. There is something charged in the air between them, the knowledge of the intimate things they’ve done together, but as far as he’s concerned, being with Rae always feels that way. She fidgets in the chair uncomfortably. “I don’t know how to act around you now...” she confesses.

 

Finn feels like laughing, so he does. Why did he think that she had all the answers? They were in the same boat. “Me neither, around you.”

 

“Really?”

 

“I wanted to kiss ya good morning but I wasn’t sure...“

 

“Oh! Oh, you’re... Yeah, do that.” she says, and blushes.

 

Finn hesitates, then leans in for a quick peck on the cheek. “Sorry,” he says at the surprise in her eyes. “I - I rushed downstairs, didn’t wash up or nothing... Didn’t even get to the loo yet... ”

 

Rae’s face brightens again. “You silly, why didn’tya say? Just go ahead. Do you... need... anything?” she stammers, then chuckles at herself. “Sorry, never woke up with a boy in my bed before. Not sure what you boys get up to in the mornings.”

 

“Pretty much what girls get up to, I suspect,” he laughs as they leave the table.

 

“Anyway, there’s a spare toothbrush in the cupboard under the sink.”

 

He gladly bounds upstairs, to wash up as best he can. After that he feels better and fresher, and ready to snog her face off, which is the first thing he does when he joins her downstairs. Cornering her by the counter where she’s making toast for them, he turns her to him and cups her face. “...do this properly,” he mumbles, and presses his lips to hers, and it’s the sweetest morning kiss he’s ever had. It’s so warm and lovely, and it hums with something new they’d never had before. Maybe she was right, and everything is different now that they’ve slept together, because when he kisses her mouth it comes with the memory of tasting the smooth skin on the inside of her thigh, when his tongue moves inside her mouth he remembers other textures, other folds and places it’s been only recently. And knowing what he can find under that robe if he only reaches inside... _Now that you’ve had sex, no need to do any of the talking -_

 

He moves away and breathes in deep in order to get himself under control as they smile at each other. “Look,” he says and his voice is gruff. “Let’s just decide to be normal round each other now, yeah? Just like before. You can tell me all about your musical supremacy and call me a prick -”

 

“But I don’t want to call you a prick anymore.”

 

“Well what would you like to call me?” Because he’ll answer to anything.

 

Rae giggles, her head bowed and her fingers are playing with the buttons of his Henley. She’s really blushing furiously now. “Well, I want to call you... _My Lover_...” she giggles again at her own pronunciation of the word, as she lets it roll off her tongue all dramatic like. Finn’s insides go all scrambly and he has to bite his lip hard so he doesn’t jump her again. He tightens the knot in the front of her robe, just in case.

 

“Well, there you go.”

 

“My looover.” She tests it.

 

Finn looks up. “Did you call me?”

 

She laughs and shoves his shoulder playfully. “I wish I could just yell it across campus. ‘Hey! Lover!’ And you’d come running.” She’s joking, but he probably would do just that in that scenario. No need to bring that up, though.

 

She shakes her head. “’Course, I won’t.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Pfff, ‘cause that’s ridiculous!”

 

“But true.”

 

Rae fidgets sheepishly, “Shut up, I know, it’s amazing, but I can’t really call you that in public, can I?”

 

“Go ahead, I won’t mind.” He snuggles up to her. “It’ll only be the truth.”

 

“Stop it, shut up, I’m not doing that!”

 

“And I can tell people, ‘Oh, have you met my Lover, Rae?’”

 

She laughs, “I never should have mentioned it, you like it way too much.” Finn notices his hands are roaming. They were on her thighs just now, and suddenly he finds them caressing her hips. He clears his throat and slides them back up to safety.

 

“Okay, it’ll be a secret name. What would be the PG version?”

 

“Boyfriend, I guess.” And suddenly Rae looks at him very seriously, as if they were discussing things of national importance. “Can I - can I call you my boyfriend again?” she almost whispers. She’s so silly.

 

He pulls her roughly to him and kisses her for a very long moment, until she’s soft and pliant against him and when he tears his lips away she gives a disappointed moan, and her eyes are not quiet focused. He kisses her until he’s sure that her mind has no room for silly, redundant questions.

 

She slides her fingers down his chest, to smooth the wrinkles she’s put in the shirt from fisting it again. “You,” she sighs, “Are a very good boyfriend, Finn Nelson.”

 

“Not a prick, then?” he smiles.

 

“No. Not a wanker or a twat neither.”

 

He kisses her once more, quickly, then moves away from her. She turns to find the toast ruined. “How about just bread with cheese?”

 

“D’you have butter?”

 

“Hello? This is the house of Earl.”

 

They take the things to the table, and Finn starts buttering a piece of bread for her, even though she’s looking at it quite nervously. Maybe she wanted cheese? But she takes it from him with a small smile and thanks, and starts nibbling on the edge of it. Finn’s not sure what’s going on, or even if something’s even happening, so he doesn’t question it. Instead he asks, “So, as far as name calling goes, how are we on dickhead?”

 

“Oh, no, I’m keeping that one. I’m sure there will still be times where you’re a total dickhead, and when you are, I’ll be sure to tell you about it.”

 

“Oh, I’m sure you will. And what about when you’re being a dickhead?”

 

Rae shakes her head. “That doesn’t happen, ever.”

 

“No? What about the time you - “

 

“Never happened.”

 

He looks at her, mouth frozen in a shocked smile. “What are you denying, I never even said -”

 

“Doesn’t matter, never been a dickhead.”

 

“Not even when -?”

 

“No.”

 

They looked at each other. Jesus, when she gets that gleam in her eyes he just wants to eat her up. “So, you can call me a dickhead at any point,”

 

“Yeah, at a moment’s notice.”

 

“But me -?”

 

“Never.”

 

He laughs and then she laughs and Finn almost tells her he loves her, right there in her mum’s kitchen, between the cups of cold tea and half eaten slices of buttery bread.

 

When they calm down, he says quietly, looking down at his plate. “I don’t care what you call me. As long as you... you know.”

 

“What?”

 

“Call me.”

 

When he looks up at her, Rae’s eyes are shiny. “Oh, Finn...” she whispers. Then, “God... Oh, fuck...” And just like that, her face falls.

 

“Wha’s wrong?” He reaches for her hand.

 

“What’s right? Finn, what are we doing? My mum is still in critical condition, my sister... God, she’s so tiny and fragile... The gang’s not talking to each other, and Chloe, she really needs help.”

 

“What’s wrong with Chloe?”

 

“She’s been going through something... Anyway, she needs us.”

 

“Okay... But what does it -”

 

“I... I feel guilty being this happy.” she whispers, and doesn’t meet his eyes.

 

He doesn’t want her to go there. He’s a selfish little boy and he wants her to think about him, him and her, and all the stuff between them that they still haven’t talked about. “Don’t we deserve it, though?”

 

She looks at their joined hands. “Maybe _you_ do.”

 

It’s like a stab to the gut, hearing her say that, “Rae, no. You deserve it more than anyone I’ve met. I’ll try... I’ll do my best to help you feel that way. That’s my promise, to you. I won’t fuck it up like last time, I swear.”

 

“No, no... Finn, it’s not... Please don’t ever think that it was something you’ve done, I- Jesus. I have so much to explain to you. So much to make up for...” She hides her face with her hands, sounding miserable. “Oh, God... Finn...”

 

“What?”

 

“I have to tell you...” and she's quiet for a long time. Finn waits. Eventually she releases a big slow breath and, eyes downcast, she continues. "Okay. I know you know this wasn’t- wasn't my first time."

 

He can feel his entire body tensing up and she can feel it too, because she hurries along, "But it's important to me that you know, about that other time -"

 

But he can't. Is she really going to tell him about it? He tries to move away, but she’s holding on to his hand and their lovely morning is ruined. "It’s fine. I don’t need you to - it’s fine.”

 

“I know this isn’t - really okay, but... just listen a moment -”

 

“I’m sorry, Rae, but I don't want to hear about it."

 

"I know, but I have to tell you -"

 

He stands up, forcing his fingers out of her grip. She looks up at him with tearful eyes. Her robe is slightly opened and from this angle he can catch a glimpse of the pale skin of her thigh exposed. He turns away. "Really, I don't want to know. It's fine, I never needed you to be a virgin or some shit like that, it's not important to me."

 

 

He takes a few steps and looks out the window, suddenly feeling trapped. Like a caged animal, forced to fit into a space too small for it, being forced to listen to the one it loves tell it all about her past lovers, and having no access to a cigarette.

 

He feels Rae’s presence at his back now, she got up and stood right behind him, so close her warmth is seeping into his body. Then her hand is on his cheek and she gently, desperately, turns his face to look at her. She's crying. Jesus, he doesn't want that, and this shouldn't happen after the night they’ve had, after they’ve done this beautiful thing together. "Please," she whispers, "please let me tell you, Finn."

 

And he relents because what is he supposed to do when she asks like that? He's powerless against her. All he can do is prepare himself, steady himself for the blows that are coming. So he puts his arms around her, holds her to him, and listens.

 

"What happened with him and what we’ve done tonight... there's not even... no comparison. There was nothing good about that time, not one bit of it was positive or good. I might as well have cut myself..."

 

Finn’s skin is crawling at that. This is it, one of the many things they have to talk about, that he came here to talk about. That’s the big one, the scary one, the one that fills him with doubts and questions. Can he help her? Can he be what she needs? Is he strong enough for feelings this big? But all he can do is hold on, hold her tighter, tuck her head deeper into the crook of his neck.

 

“What I wanted you to know,” she holds her head up and looks into his eyes. “is that I know the difference. Okay? What happened with him and what happened with... with us,” she holds his face in her palms now, making sure he’s hearing her. “it's not even in the same universe."

 

Then she kisses him until he is trembling and panting, until she makes him her slave all over again, until his mind is empty and there’s no room for silly, redundant questions.

 

+++

 

So all of a sudden there's a baby between them, and it changes things in small, but monumental ways. Rae is changing, a bit at a time, becoming a sister more and more each day, and he's along for the ride. She becomes sharper, more focused and serious, but more silly and giddy as well. He spends hours staring at her staring at the baby, their hands briefly touching while holding tiny fists, or caressing chubby cheeks.

 

He finds himself having the weirdest thoughts, about what Rae would be like as a proper mum, and then he mentally rolls his eyes at himself. _Whoa, there, son. Do you know how fast you were going? Sorry, officer, but I was distracted by this woman sitting next to me. Oh, yes, I see her. Understandable, carry on._

 

They have even less time to themselves, but on the other hand, from time to time there are moments that are made of pure magic; when the house is totally, miraculously, silent, and they are lying face of face, side by side on the rug in her room. Baby Samia is lying between them, waving her fists and legs in the air, obsessed as always with trying to grab as much of Rae's hair as she can. It's an intimacy that feels like it belongs to another time, the future of them, and it's like he's cheating, because he gets to experience it all now.

 

The baby changes every single day, and Rae changes with her, and so this thing between them changes, and so he changes. And he likes that. He likes them.

 

He loves them.

 

"It just blows my mind," Rae murmurs softly, never taking her eyes off the baby. "I mean, everyone knows babies are amazing, like, but you don't really _know it_ know it, until... you know?"

 

"Until you hold one, actually hold one in your arms." he nods, never taking his eyes off Rae's. Sami's fist closes around a bit of hair and she gives a victorious tug. The hair cascades across Rae's shoulder and tickles Sami's face and suddenly the baby gives a loud sneeze. They both watch her surprised face, and then she makes a sound of indignation and they both quiver with stifled laughter.

 

Finn lies on his back, only his eyes are still on Rae. She's still chuckling when he says quietly, "It's a lot like love."

 

It takes her three whole seconds to look up at him, slightly blushing.

 

Three seconds, he thinks.

 

"You know that I love ya, right, Rae?"

 

She scrunches her nose at him. "You have mentioned it a time or two."

 

Finn turns back to lean on his side above the baby, absentmindedly places his palm on her round, warm belly, but all his focus is on Rae. "But you know, right?"

 

She looks at him in wonderment, still a bit sheepish. Finn's guts churn.

 

"Yes." She says finally, and something inside him that he didn't even know was constantly on edge, settles for the first time since he's known her.

 

+++

 

Sometimes Finn wants to thank God for his name, for giving him the name Finn, because Rae says it over and over again, she says it long and languid, like the trickle of honey, and she says it short, staccato, between short high-pitched breaths, like spinning out of control. She gasps it, whines it, uses it in an annoyed command, and he collects all those different ways she has with his name, pulls them out later, when he’s alone and in need of tethering. She loves him. She might not have said it, proper, but he thinks she does.

 

+++

 

On the one year anniversary of their first night together (hell yeah, they commemorate that), they celebrate by leaving right from Samia's first birthday party on the long drive to Rock in the Park music festival with the gang. They drink and eat, dance and discover new bands, give their critique and have one loud, violent fight over the merit of allowing a folk-y band called "Western Winds" to perform in a rock festival.

 

As the sun rises they have an exclusive picnic on a blanket at the top of a hill, looking down at the revelers and toasting with warm champagne and a hot snogging session. Izzy interrupts them just as things are on the verge of going way too far in a public place, and they all go looking for Chop, who got drunk and climbed a fence and disappeared. "He's a constant flight risk", Archie says to Rae and they both laugh their drunken arses off for twenty minutes while the others get more and more annoyed with them.

 

Chloe throws up in the bushes. Her boyfriend Leo says he'll pay good money if one of the girls would be willing to hold her hair for him. Says it's a best-friend’s job, anyway. But when Chloe calls his name he rushes to her side, and after that he carries her on his back the entire night.

 

They spend another hour wandering around the compound, calling for Chop, when he stumbles out of the restricted area, covered in autographs. Apparently he's met ALL the bands.

 

Rae sings the entire drive home so that Finn doesn't fall asleep at the wheel. He just doesn't know how life could be better than this.

 

It's past eleven a.m when they finally arrive home, and unceremoniously collapse on Rae's bed, clothes, make-up, beers and cigarettes smells and all. He feels like he could sleep for days and days.

 

"Hey, boyfriend, wasn’t it just the best ever?" Rae murmurs, "We have... so much fun,” she sleepily wriggles on the bed to get more comfortable and sighs. “all the time."

 

Finn sighs in resignation. As tired as he is, sometimes she’s so freakin’ cute, he just has to kiss her. He turns his face her way, crawls towards her to close the space between them. She opens her eyes, silently watching his face get closer and closer to hers. He hovers, his mouth inches away, drinking her in. She looks at him with heavy, half-closed eyes, the sexiest thing he's ever seen. When their lips touch, they both sigh together, a mutual, identical hum, as if they're both stretching in the sun. As if they're both saying, _Yeeesss, finally. Everything is as it should be._ She falls asleep before he's done kissing her.

 

They have a life together. They're not rock legends or football stars, their lives are nothing special, but it's what he wants. He feels as though he's won a secret raffle, and his prize is Rae, and all the things that came with her, that he never expected to want and now can't imagine giving up.

 

In the twilight between wakefulness and sleep, his nan's voice floats in his mind. _You're seventeen years old, you don't know what you want yet._

 

 _You always say that, Nan, but you're wrong._ He shakes his head. _Besides, I'm almost 19 now._

_Still so young... so young..._

_At what age do I get to say that, yes, I know exactly what I want?_

 

She chuckles. _You still have a ways to go, my darling. My sweet boy._

 

Her image drifts in front of his eyes. Dancing, round and round in the living room, teaching him the words to Long Tall Sally.

 

 _I'm happy, Nana._ He tells her, his hands holding on, holding firm, refusing to let go and have this dance end.

 

_Then I'm happy, my darling._

_Wait!_

 

...He tries to be silent, but somehow she hears him and stirs. She blinks at him, then her hand reaches to cradle his cheek in alarm, “Baby... are you crying?”

 

Finn doesn’t want this, doesn’t want to her, make a big fuss. He just needed to get past this moment by himself, and now she’s pressing closer, holds him tighter, making the tears come even faster.

 

“Wha’s wrong?” she whispers. He can count on one hand the number of times in which he was the one falling apart on her. He shakes his head. Jesus, what a mess.

 

“Tell me.” she demands, and her arms go around him, cradling his head, bringing it to her bosom. Like a bird with her chick. Like a mother with her crying son. God help him, he’ll tell her whatever she wants. The words pour out of him, and she takes them all into herself.

 

“It’s me nan,” he sobs. “It’s not fair that she didn't get a chance to meet you. She would have loved ya, loved ya to bits. I think you're everything she wanted for me. If she knew how much better I am because I met you... I’m trying so hard to be the good lad she always saw in me, to be open to the world and learn things, all that stuff. I suddenly want her to know about you, so much, I can't stand it. ‘Cause I know if she met you and she knew that you love me, then she'd have known I did good...”

 

There’s some kind of infinite comfort in the way she holds his head against her chest. Her fingers move in his hair. She doesn’t say anything for a long while after he’s done. And he's glad that she didn't say things like “Oh, she knows”, or “She's always here with you, she’s watching from above”, or some stuff like that that Finn doesn’t believe in. Rae doesn’t do that. He remembers her holding him that night in Linda’s bedroom, talking to him, saving him. God knows she’d never stopped saving him since.

 

When she speaks, it’s a shaky whisper, her voice thick with tears. "She would have been bursting with pride, Finn. You're the best man I’ve ever known in me life."

 

And for a long time they lie in silence while he weeps and she traces shapes on his naked back, over and over again: a heart, a heart, a heart, a heart.

 

 

THE END.


End file.
